Sorry for the Aussie accent 😂 Water To Dolphins (raw first song / folk). Love some feedback.
Ok so this is my first crack at song writing and just want a little feedback.
I’m not really a musician or anything - I just like writing poetry and chucking chords behind it - so my songs (you know all one of them) seem to take shape around short stories
Keen to hear any kind of feedback - if you enjoy it, what sucks etc. it’s too long I think - I don’t feel I’m a very efficient song writer at all 😂
Also apologies for the Aussie accent if it offends - I’ve tried singing in a more neutral way but it just goes full blown American country - which sounds cool to me but doesn’t feel authentic when I’m singing about Aussies.
Lyrics below:
Wading through rich people’s shit for pay
Roof fabric of his hatchback, hanging down
Dad said "One day you’ll be doin the kickin’
Out of a new shit kicker, son."
Son you can’t sell water to the dolphins
And those closest to you will always lend a hand
And you can’t make money out of hoping
But you gotta make your mark on this land
Saved up all his pay to get a ticket
He takes his seat next to a family with Bluey on
never been away from my folks for this long”
He says “I can’t wait to show ‘em all that I done”
A Flowered shirt, flimsy Rolex slippin’ on his wrist
Sits beside him on an island bar at sunset
This cunning wolf says ‘ I once I was just like you’ (F C G Am)
Come with me come back to my homestead
His house had rope swings from the rafters
Ring lights, fruit platters, tanned young men
Breath work, cold plunges, selling water filters
This is the life of high ticket sales come on in
Son you can’t sell water to the dolphins
And those closest to you will always lend a hand
And you can’t make money out of hoping
But you gotta make your mark on this land
He started with shilling to his family tree
Then to his junior football coach on the phone
We ain’t spoken in years leave me alone
Burning bridges only works if you don’t need it to get home
His dad told him look here son I been around
And I saw them ole pyramids down in Mexico
And that one you got for yourself ain't those
So why don't you come right on home.
Son you can’t sell water to the dolphins
You didn’t listen to what I told
And you can’t make money out of hoping
Turns out, you’re the one bein’ sold
Bright white veneers never hid the rotten
Takes it’s toll, being of the lucky few
Bleeding you dry then they call you brother
The price of entry was everyone he knew
Sitting at the sunset bar - Rolex slipping on his wrist
Empty stool beside him as he settles his bill
Packs his suitcase, wraps his souvenirs for mum
His legs swing gently from the rafters, then they’re still