Rhyme Engine

Did you know that there is a website offering a complete collection of rhyming words to whatever query a user submits? It does not surprise me that such a service exists, but I am delighted to find this out as I continue to clunk around with attempted lyric writing.

I am taking a break to write this post with hopes that I will return to a few haphazard verses with miraculous vigor and inspiration. As with all of my other efforts in the genre, writing lyrics this evening is a slow and tedious process. An online rhyme engine is a blessed invention, especially when a word neanderthal like me can not scrounge up a few selections that pair with a line ending in 'gone.'

My brain yielded a short list of precisely three possibilities, and they were each entirely unhelpful. Imagine my delight when this list effortlessly materialized on RhyneZone.com:

Gone:
aune, baughn, baun, braun, braune, brawn, craun, daun, dawn, draughn, drawn, faughn, fawn, flawn, gawne, haughn, haun, hawn, laun, lawn, maune, on, pawn, praun, prawn, quan, raun, schwahn, schwan, sean, shaun, shawn, spawn, splawn, straughn, strawn, swan, vaughan, vaughn, von, yaun, yawn, zaun, zon

And that's just the one-syllable words. I could plant a wet kiss on the internet's face (if it had one). Though the brilliant database did get me out of a jam, I am appalled that I could not think of the the word 'on' without electronic assistance.

Here are the fruits of this evening's songwriting efforts. Nothing about these verses are final, and feedback is welcome as always.

________________________

Stop on a dime. Brakes whine by the yellow line
Right throttle forward, out of the station
Rush, wind tunnel, triple horn, lights flashing
Left the strain to the woman in the situation

Fifty five dollar, Seventh Street, Brown Cadillac
Trapped in a cage, rusted lock and the keys are gone
Not my deal ‘cause I’m never going back
Gotta get over to the post with the light on

There’s blood (blood, blood, blood)
On the sidewalk
Step around the blood (blood, blood, blood)
On the sidewalk

Clicky clack back through the rickety turnstile
Open wrought gate, down the hill with elation
Corner on the fly, sloppy slip, wet wipe out
Scraping front teeth against the pavement

Fifty five dollar, Seventh Street, Brown Cadillac
Trapped in a cage, rusted lock and the keys are gone
Not my deal ‘cause I’m never going back
Gotta get over to the post with the light on

There’s blood (blood, blood, blood)
On the sidewalk
Step around the blood (blood, blood, blood)
On the sidewalk

________________________

The song is inspired by a seemingly average day of grad school at Georgia State University. Class had let out and I plodded down an alley towards the Peachtree Center rail stop. I noticed a man in a car with a woman. He seemed to be wielding a strong arm and she was struggling and screaming. A larger man stood outside the vehicle keeping watch.

I walked by, saying nothing. The large man watched me, saying nothing.

A few minutes passed and reality began to invade my selfish naivety. Something terrible may have happened to that woman. As the sleek Marta train whisked me to the quiet suburbs, a sickening feeling invaded my stomach. I did nothing to help. I didn't call the police. I didn't get anyone's attention. I just kept on walking.

As I cycled home a couple of days after the matter, I took a corner too fast and slipped on the wet asphalt. Winded and bruised, I looked around an empty street for someone, anyone who could lend a hand. No one was there.

Years later, I am left wondering what became of the woman in the car; wondering if I could have altered the course of evil by taking simple action. And I have never forgiven myself for ignorance that may have cost her something precious.