i write songs all the time. sometimes they’re just weird songs i sing while changing a baby, or songs about annoying things that i sing to myself, or to friends while sitting at a bar, or about christmas, or new york. sometimes these songs live in my head for years and have verses upon verses added to them, almost infinitely. sometimes they’re just ghosts of ideas, and sometimes they’re fully-formed things which float in front of me, seeming like they’d be easy to make flesh, only to fight furiously as soon as i try to pin them down in any way.