Songwriting Workshops, Song Jingles, Customized, Personalized Songs

A wannabe rock star, I play bass guitar. One of the few girl students of electric guitar in the 1970s, I offer classes in lyrics and songwriting - MUSIC FROM THE HEART: WRITING FEARLESS LYRICS.
I'm now collaborating with musician/composer Donna Upson (www.donnaupson.com), an awesome and amazing musician. I write lyrics and Donna composes and performs. We've recently released three independent CDs: "Christmases Past", "Stand Up for the Veteran", and "At The Speed." For song clips, please click:
Track 02.mp3 Track 03.mp3 Track 06.mp3 Track 09.mp3
Listen to these two songs in their entirety:
I Want To Stay
Shadow of her Silhouette
Donna and I are available for collaboration performances at schools, bookstores, and libraries. I read from my work, and Donna plays the guitar and sings. We may be contacted via email for more information. Upson-High is also available to compose song jingles and customized/personalized songs for birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, memorials, and other occasions. A song is a wonderful gift for the person who has everything! Some of my song lyrics follow:
I'm now collaborating with musician/composer Donna Upson (www.donnaupson.com), an awesome and amazing musician. I write lyrics and Donna composes and performs. We've recently released three independent CDs: "Christmases Past", "Stand Up for the Veteran", and "At The Speed." For song clips, please click:
Track 02.mp3 Track 03.mp3 Track 06.mp3 Track 09.mp3
Listen to these two songs in their entirety:
I Want To Stay
Shadow of her Silhouette
Donna and I are available for collaboration performances at schools, bookstores, and libraries. I read from my work, and Donna plays the guitar and sings. We may be contacted via email for more information. Upson-High is also available to compose song jingles and customized/personalized songs for birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, memorials, and other occasions. A song is a wonderful gift for the person who has everything! Some of my song lyrics follow:
Stand Up for the Veteran

Track 10.mp3 (click for song clip)
Met an old man
on Main Street tonight;
His eyes were soft blue;
His hair a pure white.
He shuffled and huffed,
and walked with a cane;
When he spotted a flag,
the man stopped to pray.
That's when I noticed
a faded tattoo;
The old man was a veteran
of World War Two.
(CHORUS):
He fought for our freedom,
and our rights;
He trembled with terror
on too many nights.
Stand up for the veteran,
and shake his brave hand.
Thank him for fighting
to keep this free land.
Met a scarred man
on the streets of D.C.;
He spoke of our country,
and how free isn't free.
He'd served in Korea
for three lonely years;
As he told me his stories,
his eyes filled with tears.
He reached in his pocket
and pulled out a star:
His honor for bravery;
He'd carried it far.
(CHORUS):
Met a man without legs
on the boardwalk today.
People hurried past him,
simply looking away.
Sitting in his wheelchair,
Vietnam in his head;
He wished for a smile;
He wished he was dead.
He spoke of the landmines
and he told of the fear
in Vietnam jungles
for so many years.
(CHORUS):
Met a young man
on the streets of New York;
He fought against fires;
He fought the Gulf War.
He spoke of the horror,
and he spoke of his pain.
He'd lost many brothers
on a sad awful day.
His voice breaking choked,
face drained a ghost-white;
He spoke of his brother,
gone over to fight.
(CHORUS):
© 2002
Linda Oatman High & Donna Upson
My Dad's a Korean War Army veteran, and I like writing patriotic songs.
Met an old man
on Main Street tonight;
His eyes were soft blue;
His hair a pure white.
He shuffled and huffed,
and walked with a cane;
When he spotted a flag,
the man stopped to pray.
That's when I noticed
a faded tattoo;
The old man was a veteran
of World War Two.
(CHORUS):
He fought for our freedom,
and our rights;
He trembled with terror
on too many nights.
Stand up for the veteran,
and shake his brave hand.
Thank him for fighting
to keep this free land.
Met a scarred man
on the streets of D.C.;
He spoke of our country,
and how free isn't free.
He'd served in Korea
for three lonely years;
As he told me his stories,
his eyes filled with tears.
He reached in his pocket
and pulled out a star:
His honor for bravery;
He'd carried it far.
(CHORUS):
Met a man without legs
on the boardwalk today.
People hurried past him,
simply looking away.
Sitting in his wheelchair,
Vietnam in his head;
He wished for a smile;
He wished he was dead.
He spoke of the landmines
and he told of the fear
in Vietnam jungles
for so many years.
(CHORUS):
Met a young man
on the streets of New York;
He fought against fires;
He fought the Gulf War.
He spoke of the horror,
and he spoke of his pain.
He'd lost many brothers
on a sad awful day.
His voice breaking choked,
face drained a ghost-white;
He spoke of his brother,
gone over to fight.
(CHORUS):
© 2002
Linda Oatman High & Donna Upson
My Dad's a Korean War Army veteran, and I like writing patriotic songs.
Patch
Track 05.mp3 (click for song clip)
The spotted dog Patch is a Dalmation,
who lives in a New York fire station.
Devoted and loyal, with true dedication,
Patch never asks for a vacation.
(CHORUS):
Patch's life is the firefighters,
and they'd die for Patch;
With love like a fire:
A passion unmatched.One September morning, the sirens blared,
as Patch was napping in her favorite chair.
The chief said, "Patch, take a break . . . just stay there,"
And then he whispered a quick Lord's Prayer.
(CHORUS):
Late that night, smoke still rose in the sky;
Patch whimpered softly with a lonely cry;
Then wailed out her love in a dog's goodbye,
as she labored in birth with Puppy Number Five.
(BRIDGE):
The firefighters left that day
and they never returned;
Life goes on
was the lesson Patch learned.
But Patch's love was a fire:
It burned and burned.
(CHORUS):
© 2002
Linda Oatman High & Donna Upson
The spotted dog Patch is a Dalmation,
who lives in a New York fire station.
Devoted and loyal, with true dedication,
Patch never asks for a vacation.
(CHORUS):
Patch's life is the firefighters,
and they'd die for Patch;
With love like a fire:
A passion unmatched.One September morning, the sirens blared,
as Patch was napping in her favorite chair.
The chief said, "Patch, take a break . . . just stay there,"
And then he whispered a quick Lord's Prayer.
(CHORUS):
Late that night, smoke still rose in the sky;
Patch whimpered softly with a lonely cry;
Then wailed out her love in a dog's goodbye,
as she labored in birth with Puppy Number Five.
(BRIDGE):
The firefighters left that day
and they never returned;
Life goes on
was the lesson Patch learned.
But Patch's love was a fire:
It burned and burned.
(CHORUS):
© 2002
Linda Oatman High & Donna Upson
Butterfly Jar
You are the
lucky clover
under the cover,
undiscovered,
in my love struck book
You're the
Line in the water;
where bird wings flutter
in tranquil sun-butter:
an alluring still brook.
(CHORUS):
You’re the firefly light
on a dark starless night;
The butterfly jar
of my dark broken heart;
Butterfly jar;
Love like a kite.
You're my
Soft yellow roses;
a rainbow of hope,
twisted like rope,
helping me cope.
Red blood of a heart;
Blue hole in my soul;
White-cold, empty hole.
Without you,
I spin like the stripes on a barber's pole.
(CHORUS): X2
(BRIDGE):
I collect the bright memories,
in my butterfly jar:
The one shining glimmer
in my dark broken heart.
© 2002
Linda Oatman High & Donna Upson
lucky clover
under the cover,
undiscovered,
in my love struck book
You're the
Line in the water;
where bird wings flutter
in tranquil sun-butter:
an alluring still brook.
(CHORUS):
You’re the firefly light
on a dark starless night;
The butterfly jar
of my dark broken heart;
Butterfly jar;
Love like a kite.
You're my
Soft yellow roses;
a rainbow of hope,
twisted like rope,
helping me cope.
Red blood of a heart;
Blue hole in my soul;
White-cold, empty hole.
Without you,
I spin like the stripes on a barber's pole.
(CHORUS): X2
(BRIDGE):
I collect the bright memories,
in my butterfly jar:
The one shining glimmer
in my dark broken heart.
© 2002
Linda Oatman High & Donna Upson
At the Speed
Track 01.mp3 (click for song clip)
Another sundown:
low sunken gold.
Nights keep on goin’.
Whole sky’s growin’ old.
Don’t hold
onto busted junk,
dusty love, green lust,
dead sea monkeys,
rusty stuff nobody needs.
Let the blood-flowers bloom,
yank out the brown weeds.
(CHORUS):
At the speed
of a beating heart,
part with the broken,
hopin’ to start
tomorrow soakin’ up
free borrowed sun;
old sorrows laid low;
a new day’s begun.
Moon man is shinin’;
white light’s pourin’ down;
stars are all dancin’
in black velvet gowns.
Don’t hold
onto hopeless old dreams,
melted ice cream,
blue-moon beams,
sky-castle stuff nobody needs.
Throw out the fake pearls;
Bring on the love beads.
(REPEAT CHORUS):
© 2002
Linda Oatman High & Donna Upson
Another sundown:
low sunken gold.
Nights keep on goin’.
Whole sky’s growin’ old.
Don’t hold
onto busted junk,
dusty love, green lust,
dead sea monkeys,
rusty stuff nobody needs.
Let the blood-flowers bloom,
yank out the brown weeds.
(CHORUS):
At the speed
of a beating heart,
part with the broken,
hopin’ to start
tomorrow soakin’ up
free borrowed sun;
old sorrows laid low;
a new day’s begun.
Moon man is shinin’;
white light’s pourin’ down;
stars are all dancin’
in black velvet gowns.
Don’t hold
onto hopeless old dreams,
melted ice cream,
blue-moon beams,
sky-castle stuff nobody needs.
Throw out the fake pearls;
Bring on the love beads.
(REPEAT CHORUS):
© 2002
Linda Oatman High & Donna Upson
For Girls Who Rock!
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