This song is based on various six-word stories submitted to SixWordStories.net and SixWordMemoirs.com. Source: https://bookmarketingbestsellers.com/six-word-stories-for-those-who-want-to-write-better.

Six-Word Stories lyrics

For sale: baby shoes, never worn.Born a twin; Graduated only child.New genes demand expression—third eye.Strangers. Friends. Best friends. Lovers. Strangers.Found true love. Married someone else.Best friends. Some beers. New lovers.Friends. Liquid confidence. Admit love. Marriage.Two lovers. One parachute. No survivors.“Wrong number,” says a familiar voice.

Just tried. Failed. Will try again.Wasted day. Wasted life. Dessert, please.It cost too much, staying human.I win lottery. Sun goes nova.Big bang. No God. Fadeout. End.Bang postponed. Not big enough. Reboot.

Born in the desert, still thirsty.Stone cold. Rock solid. Gem pretty.Bad knee. Sore arm. Good heart.Stayed up too late. Found this.Hanging on by aspirin and caffeine.Where do we go from here?From content to content to contempt.Not starting over. Starting late, like.The rest? Still to be written.For sale: wisdom. Price: above pearls.

For sale: baby shoes, never worn.

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Memories is a song that tells a story.

Memories lyrics

MemoriesThe smell of her hairThe sight of her smileThe feel of her thighsThe taste of her lipsThe sound of her sighs

Bangin’ the drum slowlyBetween the sheets actionBoink boink boinkBoo thang thatClappin’ cheeksFoolin’ aroundFuggin lovinGettin’ busyGettin’ luckyHanky pankyDancin’ the light fandangoDoin’ the hokey-pokeyHome run derbyHookin’ up on the slyHorizontal tangoHubba hubbaIn sync all the wayJumpin’ bonesKissipoo actionKnockin’ bootsGet to know her, know herC’mon, baby, light my fireMating calls again and againPaint it black, paint it blackRinging the ding-a-lingsSex sells, sells, sellsTickling the ivories

MemoriesThe smell of her hairThe sight of her smileThe feel of her thighsThe taste of her lipsThe sound of her sighs

MemoriesThe smell of her hairThe sight of her smileThe feel of her thighsThe taste of her lipsThe sound of her sighs

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Enjoy this song adapted from Walt Whitman’s great poem Song of Myself from his book, Leaves of Grass.

The Origin of All Songs Lyrics

I celebrate myself, and sing myself,And what I assume you shall assume,For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

I loaf and invite my soul,I lean and loaf at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.

My tongue, every atom of my blood, formed from this soil, this air,Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same,I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,Hoping to cease not till death.

Creeds and schools in abeyance,Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,Nature without check with original energy.

Have you reckoned a thousand acres much? have you reckoned the earth much?Have you practiced so long to learn to read?Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?

Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems,You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left,)

You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books,You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me,You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.

Stop this day and night with meand you shall possess the origin of all songs,You shall possess the good of the earth and sun.

Stop this day and night with meand you shall possess the origin of all songs,You shall possess the good of the earth and sun.

Tell Me a Story Podcast is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.