What Am I Doing Here?

No postings from me lately, but that doesn't mean I'm not writing. In fact, I have worked at writing a couple of songs this past week. One's called "Who Do You Think You Love?" while another is simply "Ted From Accounting." There's also "What Am I Doing Here?" As you can see, I'm in love with inquisitive song titles.

None of them are really complete. I'm trying to fit way too many lyrics in each song, but since I can't fully imagine what the backing music will sound like, I have a hard time leaving those empty spaces.

Anyway, I guess I should post something here, so here's my current work in progress, "What Am I Doing Here?" Sorry about the bad line-break formatting. Maybe I'll fix it later. Maybe.

Verses:    G    D    C    D    (x2)  (maybe Am C G or D?)

           Em   D    Am   G  G/F#

           Em   Bm   Am   C    (expand before chorus)

Choruses:  G    D    Am   C    (x2)

           Bm  

Break:     C    Am   Dm   G

V1:        I’m 28 and my girl’s just great

                For years we’ve been happy together

           But last night she asked me in passing

                If it was gonna be this way forever

           Staying in, playing Madden ’10,

                getting take-out Chinese delivered again,

           She was “bored and lonely,” she said, but it’s only

                cuz I don’t like gettin’ too cologne-y

           And then her friend called up and said

                she found a spot on-line that would be so refined,

           They even had some kind of dress code,

                where my team shirt and sweat pants might be out of line

           But I said “sure thing, girl,

                I’m up for anything.” And I thought it’d be just fine.

           Well, you can guess it was a big mess.

                I should’ve known this rathole wouldn’t be my kind.

Ch1:       What am I doing here?

           You thought I’d like it here? I’m sorry, but that’s BS!

           Oh what am I doing here?

           (you know) Zagat might love it, but I just couldn’t care less.

           It might be for you, but it’s not for me, you see,

           they wouldn’t even let us in for free.

           What am I doing here?

                (I could’ve stayed home alone.)

V2:        They wouldn’t let me park my car,

                some young punk wanted the keys…

           We had to pay twenty bucks to get in;

                do I get some raffle tickets with that, please?

           And then Miss Uppity grabbed me and told me

                that they had some back-up shoes that were my size.

           So explain to me, if it’s okay

                for women to show their toes, well, why can’t I?

           I finally found the bar, at least

                I’d get a chance to chug a beer.

           But forget any bottles or cans,

                “pardon, my boy, but we just don’t serve that here.”

           “Anything without fruit?” I said, “without

                umbrellas and Bailey’s, and twists and rinds and such?”

           “We have water... many kinds,”

                but even out-of-the-tap was way too much!

          

PreCh:     And you call this a find? My girl,

           next time you wanna go out, you better leave me behind!

               

Ch2:       For what am I doing here?

           There ain’t even one big-screen TV with the Blackhawks on.

           Oh what am I doing here?

           Come on, the Gracies are fighting tonight in the Octagon!

           It might be for you, but it’s not for me, you see,

           it ain’t my cup of Earl Grey tea.

           What am I doing here?

                (At least I’ve got my iPhone.)

          

Br:        I couldn’t even find a single jukebox, baby,

           to put some Skynyrd on and liven up this crowd.

           But if these ferns could talk, I’d tell ‘em, maybe

           that never, ever, in mixed company

                should Kenny G be played aloud! Guitar!

Inst:      (guitar solo over verse chords)

V3:        I asked for a burger with fries,

                or something good to give me relief,

           But everything that they served looked like rabbit food,

                And I yelled, “Man, where’s the beef?”

           At least it had some knock-out girls,

                the kind with eight-inch heels 

                that kinda shake their hips,

           But guys, it would’ve taken a fistful

                of ten-dollar shots to get the two hot blondes to kiss.

          

           I guess it was worthwhile, seeing my girl

                having the time of her life

           And as she laughed with others, I wondered

                if the time would ever come for her to be my wife.

           But then I thought of sliders and beer,

                and videogames and porn, and then it became clear,

           “My girl, you may be my future,

                but presently, I’m gonna ask that you wait right here!

          

Ch3:       ‘cause what am I doing here?

           I guess it was a waste to bring my custom-tip darts.

           But what am I doing here?

           I don’t think that I could get away with letting go of this 

                (make fart sound).

           This kind of scene’s just way too clean,

                when your mid-day snack’s a can of pork and beans

           And everyone’s looking over at me

                as I struggle to maintain my masculinity

           Girl, you may not ever understand

             That I can never be the guy 

             that you probably want for your man

          

I don't know how I want to end it, lyrically. Can it send on that somber of a tone? Maybe I'll simply say "Let's just go on home."

Anyway, it's a work in progress.