If you have written lyrics before, this book will help you gain even greater control and understanding of your craft. If you have not written lyrics before, this book will get you off in a healthy direction. You will find. Shows examples of successful songs, describes the three basic songwriting forms, and discusses theme, repetition, wordplay, rhyme, rhythm, and common songwriting mistakes. Learn to write songs!
This book presents the basic concepts of popular songwriting, such as song construction, creativity techniques, melodic and harmonic development, how to write memorable lyrics, and other core topics. Hands-on exercises make it practical, and the accompanying recording illustrates the concepts for those who don't. Once upon a time, there wasn't a song. Then, sometime later, there was. Of songs artists write for themselves and those that are typically recorded by artists who do not write their own material.
Berklee Press. Find better rhymes, and use them more effectively. I'd just like to know. When I was out of town, did he come over to your place? Did you hide that picture of us you kept on your dresser? I suppose it doesn't matter now, but I'd just like to know. I'd just like to know See how the idea gains weight with the new information? It combines the first box, the meeting, with some history, giving the second box more weight and giving more impact to the title.
I want to be able to say everything to you, and for you to say everything to me. I don't want any secrets, no matter what. You could have told me about him. I wouldn't have tried to stop you. It weighs the most. Now, it's simply a matter of actually writing the song, but writing it knowing where you're going.
You have an outline, a scaffold to hang your song on. You can bang around inside each box without being afraid of getting lost. And don't be afraid to call your six best friends — who, what, where, when, why, and how — to ask them for specific suggestions. They're always helpful, especially when and where. The verses develop your idea; they are the basic tool to advance your concept, plot, or story.
They get us ready to hear each chorus or refrain — they control the angle of entry and the way we see the repeated elements. Like the paragraphs of an essay, each one should focus on a separate idea.
Say you've written a song with only verses, and the verse summaries go something like: Verse 1. The sheriff is the toughest man in town. Verse 2. He is very strong and has a fast gun. Verse 3. Everyone in town knows the sheriff is tough. They are afraid of him. The ideas don't move much. These verses say pretty much the same thing in different words. Obviously, you'd probably have written it in more interesting language, using sense-bound images and metaphors, but no matter how you polished the language, it would only disguise the fact that something important is missing: development.
The only real fix is to take the idea new places: Verse 1. He is obsessed with a beautiful woman. She is married to the weakest man in town. The language is still bland and imageless. Yet now we want to know what happens next. We had no such curiosity about the first sequence. Stagnant verses will make your repeated element stagnant, too. The boxes won't grow. Watch: Box 1 The sheriff is the toughest man in town.
Beware, beware. All hands beware. Box 2 He is very strong and has a fast gun. Box 3 Everyone in town knows the sheriff is tough. The refrain suffers from the same disease as the verses: stagnation.
Boredom is amplified. The boxes, at best, are all the same size — they don't gain any weight. More likely, the boxes lose weight. You can feel the letdown when you get to the second and third boxes. You can only fix stagnation by developing the ideas. Like this: Box 1 The sheriff is the toughest man in town.
Box 2 He is obsessed with a beautiful woman. Box 3 She is married to the weakest man in town. Now each refrain gains weight. The boxes get progressively larger because the verse ideas move forward — they each introduce their own idea or angle. When a refrain or chorus attaches to verses that mean the same thing, the result is boredom. When it attaches to verses that develop the idea, it gains weight and impact.
It dances. What about changing the chorus each time? One person singing alone is called a soloist, not a chorus. If you change the words to a refrain each time, it isn't a refrain, just additional material.
Remember, you fix a stagnant chorus or refrain by doing the same thing you do if you have only verses — you develop the idea. Don't waste your verses. Don't let them sit idle waiting for the hook to come around and rescue them. Too often, there won't be anyone around to witness the rescue. The specific images really take you there, involve your own sense memories, involve you in the song.
And I love the bridge, using the grandpa's fields as a metaphor for life and experience. And the chorus, from the title right on through until the end, grows each time we hear it.
Who drinks strawberry wine? Strawberry wine has both the taste of soda pop childhood and the danger of alcohol adulthood. Besides which, it's cheap. It's the perfect vehicle for a song about coming of age, moving from childhood to adulthood. Watch the boxes develop: Each new verse idea builds on the last and adds weight to the song, enlarging the boxes.
Each line gains weight each time we see it. The last chorus is the most powerful. If we simply look at the line the hot July moon saw everything, we'll see the weight gain clearly: Box 1: The hot July moon saw us down by the river having our first experience.
It becomes a bigger and bigger moon, needing bigger and bigger boxes. When you write a chorus, each line you include has the same responsibility: to be able to gain weight. For me, it really hits home, especially in the first chorus. It touches both the son and the father in me. Verses one and two plus the first chorus make up box one. Verses three and four plus the second chorus make the second box. Let's look at the first box: My father had so much to tell me Things he said I ought to know Don't make my mistakes There are rules you can't break But I had to find out on my own The speaker looks back at his father's attempts to help smooth the way ahead, and his own unwillingness to listen.
Stubborn kid. Had to do it for himself when all that help was available. Now when I look at my own son I know what my father went through There's only so much you can do You're proud when they walk Scared when they run That's how it always has been between fathers and sons Now the speaker is the father, going through the same things with his own son.
He understands what he did to his father, but understands that it was necessary, perhaps even inevitable. That's how it always has been between fathers and sons I love the structure of the verse — how it tosses in an extra line line three , refuses to rhyme lines four and five, then extends the last line to focus our attention on the title. Lovely moves. Now the chorus: It's a bridge you can't cross It's a cross you can't bear It's the words you can't say The things you can't change No matter how much you care So you do all you can Then you've gotta let go You're just part of the flow Of the river that runs between fathers and sons So far, very effective stuff.
I've been interested the whole time. What a nifty chorus. I love the play on cross: It's a bridge you can't cross It's a cross you can't bear and I love the metaphor You're just part of the flow Of the river that runs between fathers and sons The river is a divider of generations, but it's also the connector of generations.
Neat word play. Both the message and the fancy dancing sweep me along. Now look at the second box: Your mother will try to protect you Hold you as long as she can But the higher you climb The more you can see That's something that I understand This sounds familiar. Not that I've seen things from the mother's perspective yet, but I have seen the father — in fact, both fathers — trying to protect the child. I've also seen the child trying to go beyond the parents. Not that this information isn't interesting, it's just not new.
The ideas if not the exact perspectives — she and you have been covered. This doesn't bode well for the second chorus. We'll need development rather than restatement to keep repetition interesting. One day you'll look at your own son There'll be so much that you want to say But he'll have to find his own way On the road he must take The course he must run That's how it always has been between fathers and sons Oops. I know I've been here before. It's verse two with I changed to you.
No need to try to universalize verse four with you. The idea was already universal. The second chorus is a goner. It can't help but say exactly the same thing as the first chorus. It's a bridge you can't cross It's a cross you can't bear It's the words you can't say The things you can't change No matter how much you care So you do all you can Then you've gotta let go You're just part of the flow Of the river that runs between fathers and sons It isn't so much that there is no advancement of the idea in verses three and four, there just isn't enough to give us a new look at the chorus when we get there.
The power of this lovely chorus is diminished rather than enlarged the second time around, and we leave the song less interested than we were in the middle.
Both boxes are the same size. Let's see if we can make the second box grow. The song contains two perspectives: a son looking at his father, and the son as father. If the first box could focus only on the son looking at his father, saying: My father had so much to tell me Things he said I ought to know Don't make my mistakes There are rules you can't break But I had to find out on my own Verse two idea in prose : I kept him at arm's length.
I didn't want him interfering with my life. He kept trying, but I wouldn't let him. That's how it always has been between fathers and sons Now move into the chorus: It's a bridge you can't cross It's a cross you can't bear It's the words you can't say The things you can't change No matter how much you care So you do all you can Then you've gotta let go You're just part of the flow Of the river that runs between fathers and sons We see the first chorus from the son's point of view, colored only by the son's eyes.
Now the second box is free to look from the other side of the river: Now when I look at my own son I know what my father went through There's only so much you can do You're proud when they walk Scared when they run That's how it always has been between fathers and sons It's a bridge you can't cross It's a cross you can't bear It's the words you can't say The things you can't change No matter how much you care So you do all you can Then you've gotta let go You're just part of the flow Of the river that runs between fathers and sons The father's perspective colors the second chorus.
It becomes — for me, at least — more interesting than the first chorus. Here is a simple principle for division of labor: Put separate ideas in separate boxes. Separating the ideas into separate boxes makes both choruses fresh. Say you've written a verse whose summary is: You are really wonderful And I've been looking for someone just like you We should be together Love Love Love Love Love Love It's difficult to see where to go next.
It feels like everything's been covered. Perhaps it might help to separate the perspectives, dividing the idea into the three different perspectives: 1 you, 2 I me , and 3 we. Box 1: You are amazing. And beautiful. Your blonde hair flows over your milky-white complexion like chicken gravy over mashed potatoes… Love Love Love Love Love Love Box 2: I've been looking for a codependent relationship for a long time.
But you can see how the boxes gain weight by separating the perspectives. It's a nice guideline for dividing your verses' jobs. Or this — you write a verse that says: We were so good together But now everything's falling apart What's going to happen to us?
Try separating them into separate boxes: Box 1: We used to smile and laugh together, etc. Sometimes one or the other will be just what you need; other times, like any formula, they could take the freshness out of your writing. Be aware of these techniques, just beware of letting them become a habit in your writing. One more tip: Just because you wrote a verse first doesn't mean it's your first verse. Give yourself two chances.
It's better when you find an idea that contains the DNA of its own development, or when plot does the development work. See how the lyric pulls us in with its sense-bound imagery, turning us into participants rather than observers? Her words are full of our stuff. And look at the lyrics using the box structure. Watch how the chorus gains weight, transforming the meaning of the chorus each time: Each verse moves the story forward, making chances of getting home more and more remote.
Great stuff! Let's take a look at one last example, this one with a challenge in it. Bastian, the first two verses work to set up a clear situation: Just the other night at a hometown football game My wife and I ran into my old high school flame And as I introduced them the past came back to me And I couldn't help but think of the way things used to be She was the one that I'd wanted for all times And each night I'd spend prayin' that God would make her mine And if he'd only grant me that wish I'd wished back then I'd never ask for anything again Now comes the punch line: Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers Remember when you're talkin' to the man upstairs That just because he doesn't answer doesn't mean he don't care Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers With all the information we have so far, it's a little difficult to see how to develop the story much further.
Here's verse three: She wasn't quite the angel that I remembered in my dreams And I could tell that time had changed me in her eyes too it seemed We tried to talk about the old days, there wasn't much we could recall I guess the Lord knows what he's doin' after all Now follow it with the chorus: Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers Remember when you're talkin' to the man upstairs That just because he doesn't answer doesn't mean he don't care Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers Is there anything gained?
The boxes are roughly the same size. We already knew, from the combination of the first two verses and the chorus, how thankful he was not to be with his old girlfriend.
This verse just elaborates on the same theme, giving us a few more details, including the old girlfriend's attitude. And the final line, I guess the Lord knows what he's doin' after all, just repeats the idea just because he doesn't answer doesn't mean he don't care. In short, the second chorus is destined to die an ignominious death right there in front of everybody. Now the song moves into a bridge, followed by a third chorus: And as she walked away I looked at my wife And then and there I thanked the good Lord for the gifts in my life Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers Remember when you're talkin' to the man upstairs That just because he doesn't answer doesn't mean he don't care Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers Much better.
I had forgotten about the wife. The third chorus is interesting again; it gains weight by adding the wife. Go back and read the bridge followed by the whole chorus.
The wife becomes God's greatest gift. A lovely payoff. Two out of three choruses work great, but the song sags at the second chorus.
There isn't enough new information in verse three to make the chorus interesting. Other than leaving it alone as good enough two out of three ain't bad … , what would you do? One possibility might be to reintroduce the wife in verse three and skip the bridge entirely, like this: She wasn't quite the angel that I remembered in my dreams And I could tell that time had changed me in her eyes too it seemed As she turned and walked away I looked at my wife And recognized the gift I'd been given in my life Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers Remember when you're talkin' to the man upstairs That just because he doesn't answer doesn't mean he don't care Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers Now the song is a simple three verse, two chorus layout with both choruses doing their work.
Okay, you caught me. I lied. The original version of the lyric that I gave you isn't the way the song was recorded. So what did they cut out? But it works; both choruses shine, and we stay interested in the song all the way through.
Keeping the bridge gives the music a chance to breathe, since the verse lines are long and the tempo is slow. Creating a contrasting section helps the overall flow of the song. The formal risk pays off, creating interest and contrast at the same time.
Put this move in your toolbox. It could come in handy. Of course, there are no rules. Sometimes it's even the wrong question. Just because you wrote a verse first doesn't mean it's the first verse. Call the line a refrain, because it's a part of the verse rather than a separate section. Certainly ashes, ashes, all fall down has the element of childhood games in it.
But where else could it go? As a child, he sang in a circle with his playmates. He volunteered to serve his country in the Great War. In the trenches, he suffered from shell shock and battle fatigue. Maybe do some research on World War I and life in the trenches, looking for images and words that work both for childhood and for the war.
Do some object writing to get something from your own sense pool. Try to see each idea you find as a metaphor for other parts of the lyric. For example, falling down certainly can go beyond the childhood game.
Childhood dreams can fall. So can innocence. Bombs, rockets, and soldiers, too. What else? Try to find ideas for the first box first, the childhood section. Then the second box, from the giggling child to the ashen face of the shell-shocked soldier, the dust from the rockets and gunpowder.
Then find an angle for the third section — it shouldn't be too difficult. He certainly could tumble like a child whenever a door slams. Go ahead and write the whole lyric. Remember that each verse should have its own job to do. Make the third box gain weight.
Above all, take your time. This is a process. Enjoy it. Something catchy or emotional. Something profound or funky, or something beautifully said. Something people might sing along to. So how do you know what to repeat? Maybe the words just feel good in your mouth.
Maybe there's a lot of internal sound making it easy and fun to sing, such as: Peaceful, easy feeling There can be many reasons to repeat a line or a section, but let's take a look at one big one: The words we repeat stay interesting when we say them again. They gain something more when we repeat them, even gain something more because we repeat them.
Of course, that was the whole message of the boxes: Keep your listeners interested and engaged all the way through the song.
You already know that the chorus should mean more the second time around. You're already a responsible citizen in the world of chorus repetition. You already practice productive repetition.
As we sing along, we feel something more than we did the first time. Productive repetition. We learn more about what kind of crazy he is, and how deep it runs.
We know Luka's plight, though we didn't understand it the first time. In each case, the repetition is productive because it gives the words more weight the second and third times than they had the first time. That's something useful. It keeps your listeners interested all the way through the song, and maybe even singing along. Repetition can work on smaller scales, too. Not just when you repeat a section or a line, but inside a line itself. Can you win? In the last two lines, by simply isolating and repeating a portion of the line, can you win, she moves from a declarative sentence into a question, creating new energy and adding a new idea — in this case, the character's uncertainty whether winning laughter is possible.
Think of it as hunting for hidden treasures. Learn to start looking at sentences not just for meaning, but for little pieces of meaning that can be isolated and repeated, giving additional information or emphasis. Look at this question: Who do you love? It starts with one of the interrogative pronouns who, what, when, where, why, how. It also contains the auxiliary verb do. What if you drop who? It becomes: Do you love? Now you've got a brand new question. Simply repeat that smaller piece: Who do you love?
Do you love? You've isolated a part of the sentence and repeated it, giving a new meaning. You can do it with the other interrogative pronouns, too: What do you love?
When do I love? Do I love? Where do you go? Do you go? Why do you laugh? Do you laugh? How do you know? Do you know? The auxiliary verb do can also introduce a question. That's what makes it work. You can do the same thing with the past and future tense, did and will: Who did you love? Did you love? What did you try? Did you try? When did I know? Did I know?
Where did you go? Did you go? Why did you laugh? Did you laugh? How did you know? Images Donate icon An illustration of a heart shape Donate Ellipses icon An illustration of text ellipses. Writing better lyrics Item Preview. EMBED for wordpress. Want more? Advanced embedding details, examples, and help! Writing Better Lyrics by Pat Pattison has been a staple for songwriters for nearly two decades. Now this Pat Pattison songwriting course provides effective tools for everything from generating ideas, to understanding the form and function of a song, to fine-tuning lyrics.
Writing Better Lyrics pdf will give you a new way of looking at lyrics and will provide you with tips and exercises to make your next song better. Perfect for new and experienced songwriters alike, this time-tested classic covers the basics in addition to more advanced techniques.
Songwriters will discover:. Featuring updated and expanded chapters, 50 fun songwriting exercises, and examples from more than 20 chart-toppings songs, Writing Better Lyrics Pat Pattison gives you all of the professional and creative insight you need to write powerful lyrics and put your songs in the spotlight where they belong. Pat Pattison is a professor at Berklee College of Music, where he teaches lyric writing and poetry.
His internationally successful students include multiple Grammy winners John Mayer and Gillian Welch.
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