You never give me your money
You only give me your funny paper
and in the middle of negotiations
you break down
I never give you my number
I only give you my situation
and in the middle of investigation
I break down
Out of college, money spent
See no future, pay no rent
All the money’s gone, nowhere to go
Any jobber got the sack
Monday morning, turning back
Yellow lorry slow, nowhere to go
But oh, that magic feeling, nowhere to go
Oh, that magic feeling
Nowhere to go
Nowhere to go
One sweet dream
Pick up the bags and get in the limousine
Soon we’ll be away from here
Step on the gas and wipe that tear away
One sweet dream came true… today
Came true… today
Came true… today…yes it did
One two three four five six seven,
All good children go to Heaven
–Lennon/McCartney
Sometimes when I’m working on scenes, I find a song that helps the visual, and play it over and over. This song works perfectly for a series of scenes in which the protagonist takes his last stumbling steps towards the giant face-plant, one that will eventually drive him to become what he should be. I was driving home last night, running a particular scene over and over, detailing — when I was overcome by the terrible sadness of the character’s internal dialogue, and had to pull over. The Beatle’s guitars were floating up through, making their little glissades, so perfectly played that no one could ever play it better, not ever.
The Beatles. I don’t even think they knew what they were doing. But it was perfect. Nothing should ever be changed. And I never thought of this song before, but suddenly I find it to be a gleaming jewel, a roaring white dwarf in an empty sector, an innocent plant living a full life underneath bright and humid skies, needing nothing but the sweet taste of earth.