“All men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.”
The quote is usually attributed to Thoreau, though only the first part ever appears in his writings. The second bit got tacked on somewhere along the line and stuck. It’s so neat and profoundly sad we choose to believe it was always part of the original quote. It’s weird how our collective memory is so easily clouded by things we wish were true. Things hat make history neater, more poetic. I suppose it’s in our nature to impose narrative on chaos. How else can we hope to make sense of it in all it’s maddening, random glory other than in the stories we tell ourselves?
And so: these are my songs. The narratives I have chosen to clumsily thrust upon the grand disorder of things. They may not be much but at least when I go it won’t be with the song still in me. It’ll be here, scrawled across this little corner of the internet, for however long these things last.
J. Robert Jones lives in Cardiff, Wales but remains an (occasionally) proud Yorkshireman. When he’s not writing stories or doing generic admin grunt work to pay the mortgage he writes about music. He can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org