#personwithguitar #modalchallenge #entomology #acoustic

If I had a penny for every angsty song from the point of view of a caterpillar I've written during FAWM, I'd have tuppence, but it's odd that it's happened more than once. Inspired by the colonial ermine moth caterpillars that build a tent city on the bushes near my bus stop every summer.

Mode nerds: Phrygian sharp 3rd.

Now, for the final time Under our tents of silk, I gaze on you, my friends, Who I shall forget. Soon I shall spin my shroud, I shall dissolve away Only to be reborn More glorious yet.

The priests say this isn’t dying, To join the ranks of the flying, But will the one who rises Still be me? So I shall say farewell, Though you may follow soon Strangers, we’ll meet and dance By the light of the moon.

Sometimes they perch a while, Wings spread on silken roofs. Who’d think such velvet splendour Used to be us? They do not know our ways They have forgot our songs Fables of lust and rage Are all they discuss.

Their whirlwind dance of desire Takes blessed souls ever higher So priests proclaim. It makes no sense to me. So I shall say farewell, Though you may follow soon Strangers, we’ll meet and dance By the light of the moon.