Don't Let Me Sleep: A Song Is Never Really Finished

Listen to "Don't Let Me Sleep"

When I quit drinking in my early thirties, I was very fortunate to have the support of my family and friends. It made all the difference, really. I was also lucky to have a guitar to lean on, something from my childhood that absorbed me and provided me with an outlet. I was still commuting by train from the Jersey Shore to New York City then, working at the mastering studio in the tape library, and living at my parents' condo a short walk from the train station. At night, I would sit out on a small, second story screened in porch, just big enough for me, my guitar, and an ashtray. A lot of melodic ideas and songs poured out of me that spring and summer, including this song.

One thing I didn't expect would happen after getting sober was how deeply I would sleep. Since I didn't start my studio shift until 1:00 p.m., I could sleep all morning after a late night of playing guitar and smoking cigarettes. It was very satisfying! In those days I was feeling a combination of gratitude for the restfulness, and an eagerness to get on with life. As the well-known pink cloud eventually disappeared into thin air, there were—fortunately for me—blue skies at the Jersey Shore to follow. Honest conversations in the rooms opened me up to the relief and release of sharing and the importance of listening.

Possibly as an extension of those experiences, I have lately been involved with songwriting workshop groups and feedback sessions. I find them to be valuable mainly as a way to quiet that voice of self-doubt that most of us can never really silence, but also sometimes, in other very specific ways.

For example, I am aware that in the lyrics to "Don't Let Me Sleep" I am using the word "lie" incorrectly if the meaning is that I am sleeping (i.e., laying down) because the past tense of "lie" is "lay". When I started writing the song I was, like most people, confused about how these words should be used. After looking it up and realizing my mistake, I still preferred the way that the word "lie" sounded as a song lyric. "Lie" also had a double meaning, in that a component of addiction is self deception. So, if I was going to be questioned about this, I had an answer prepared. Or so I thought.

An anonymous song reviewer asked me if I was being intentional about my word choice, and he suggested that maybe this aspect of the song was distracting. As usual, my inner knee-jerk response was, "that's how I like it whether it's right or wrong!", or something similarly defensive. Then, again as usual, after a day or two I began to consider new possibilities.

Should I change the progression of the lyrics in the song to start with the word "lay", continue with "hide out", and end with the word "lie"? Would this make the meaning more clear, or would it just be a case of trying to hard? (You are welcome to share your thoughts with me, here or in person, if you have an opinion.)

I can answer questions like this, and discern what sounds and feels right, each time I get to perform my songs. It's part of what grounds me in the process and keeps me reaching. A song is never really finished. In this way, songs are just like everything else that lives. They grow, change, and evolve—hopefully, having lives of their own far beyond the creator's earshot and lifespan.