COMPOSING

MUSIC

Gwen Thomas (B.A. Music Theory and Composition, 2004, Seattle Pacific University), held two “Composer in Residence” positions before the age of 22 and carried out a one-on-one apprenticeship in composing, songwriting, orchestration, and producing under master film score composer Chris Dedrick (2007 - 2010). Since 2008 she scores and fully produces audio tracks –ready to be used in film, ads, and art installations.



Reels










WORDS

Since 2012, Thomas has been sought after specifically for her work as a lyricist. During lyric consultations (which can take place in person in Amsterdam, or via Skype or FaceTime worldwide), Gwen can provide you with new ways of wording phrases you're already working with, or help you write new lyrics from scratch. She offers translation from Dutch to English in a way that eloquently captures the message of your original lyrics while eliminating any unwanted "Dunglish" along the way.

Click   <   or   >   below to flip through lyrics of some G.T. Thomas songs for a taste of her wordery.


EDGE OF THE WORLD

At the edge of the world
Comes an alkaline voice
Speaks in pestering swirls
Gives unwelcome advice.
It can't be stopped– it's an avalanche.

At the edge of the world
Where my elbows are grazed
There's a grimace revealed
And an eyebrow is raised. It can't be stopped– it's a landslide.

Sliding down a darkening path
I'm doing the math
Cutting it close, right on the nose.
Getting myself out of your way
I call it a day.
I won't take your bait, you got there too late.

How about we step back from the edge of the world.

At the edge of the world
Which I tend to avoid
Stands a lukewarm face
Always slightly annoyed
She can't be stopped– from her avalanche.

At the edge of the world
Where we sometime must meet
Kiss kiss kiss from the one
Who you cannot not greet
It can't be stopped– I am riding the wave.

Waving from a mountainy high
A light in my eye
Places to be, people to see.
I'll be on my way out the doors
Settling scores.
You if you must, eating my dust.

How about we step back from the edge of the world.

TAPE IT

Trying to capture everything on tape.
Tape it.
Tape it together.
Tape it together.

Trying to capture everything we thought
On tape.
Tape it together.
And tape it all over.

In my off hours I will drive around town,
Looking for a feeling.
Get in my car, roll the windows down
Giorgio playing...

Trying to think a thought I've never had, or at least
Fake it.
When it's time to tape it
I suddenly think it.

There is a distance I would like to go and I can
Make it
When it's time to tape it
When it's time to tape it.

In my off hours I will drive around town,
Looking for a feeling.
Get in my car, roll the windows down
"Deacon Blues" playing...

Corner of my eye always pink and brown
Mirror ball swaying.
Gotta find a spot in this vacant town
Looking for a feeling.
Looking for a feeling right now.

Trying to capture
Try on a feeling
We're improvising
It feels like danger

Tape it together. Tape it together and tape it all over to make it forever.

IRON IN THE GROUND

Many people don't want ideas in their head.
They'd rather sit around and drink wine until they are dead,
And I don't blame them.

"Please don't write a song that will get stuck in my head
'Cause I don't want to think about a word that you said
when you stop playing."

My buddy Louis had it right
When he said look inside your mind,
'Cause inwardly you're endless.
Try to comprehend this,
You might like what you find.

Many people don't want to think about stuff
Just want to be a palm-person and that is enough
to keep them going.

"Please don't make more art that I can't understand.
If you don't got a genre then I can't like your band.
And plus, it's boring."

Your buddy Louis had it right
When he said look inside your mind,
'Cause inwardly you're endless.
Try to comprehend this,
You might like what you find.

An iron in the ground, buried in the dirt...
An iron in the ground made it worth the effort.
Worth the effort.
Effort

Effort...

But many people don't want ideas in their head.

BACKWARDS MONEY

Not a single day goes by it doesn't burn
The surface of the earth.
Not a single opportunity to learn
The wages of your worth.

Backwards money in the door goes
Back to what we did before.
Before.

How to get from A to B? The mystery
Of getting in the game.
Being in "the Now" while cashing out for history
How ya ever gonna stake your claim?

Backwards money in the door goes
Back to what we did before.
Before.

If this is a game, I'm losing.
I'm falling up the stairs
Like in my nightmares.
And it never happened to me

Before.

Backwards money keeps your feet from
Ever touching the floor.

Keeps you wanting more.

WHITE SPACE

Did you notice that silence was alright?
And we were getting used to sitting tight?
Comfortable enough without a word to say.
And we could spend the whole entire day

Finding the ways to make the
Quiet, white space feel full.

It never seemed so hard as it does now.
When you're alone, how do you spend these hours?
Passing time by stopping to smell flowers?
Myself? I've given up on television,
Which leaves my brain more time for indecision.

And finding the ways to make the
Quiet, white space feel full?

It never seemed so hard as it does now.
We aren't just marking time
We're really feeling fine
We don't push ever on
Until our meeting's done.
We aren't just killing minutes
Waiting till their finished
Waiting for the next thing
To get to something happening.

In fact, sometime I think we'd rather that it never come at all.

And sometimes simply being together
Is the closest I could ever
Feel
To being real.

When you're alone how do you spend these hours?
We time-traveled to youth with special powers.

And we found the ways to make the
Quiet, white space feel full.

EXPRESSIONS

Trying to find expressions in a
Face that doesn't have them.
Trying to find the answers from a
Source that doesn't grant them.

The thing about intentions is
You have to set them and then let them go.
The thing about intentions is that
Over time they start to show.

Wrinkle wrinkle wrinkle like a crinkle cut fry.
Wrinkle wrinkle wrinkle wrinkle.

Trying to use expressions when you
Can't recall the meaning.
Trying to gather forces that are
Surely worth convening.

Trying to find expressions...

The thing about intentions is
You have to set them and then let them go.
The thing about intentions is that
Over time they start to show.

Wrinkle wrinkle wrinkle like a crinkle cut fry.
Wrinkle wrinkle wrinkle wrinkle.

Tippy-toe, tippy-toe, tippy-toe toward
Attitude and answers
In tremolo tones and tomes.
To find patterns
In the caverns
Of the Forty-winking Woods...

Trying to chance encounter, but it isn't gonna happen.
Comin' in out-of-towner when the demi-gods are napping.

Trying to find expressions...

In a face that doesn't have them

And it isn't gonna happen.

The thing about intentions is
You have to set them and then let them go.
The thing about intentions is that
Over time they start to show.

Wrinkle wrinkle wrinkle like a crinkle cut fry.
Wrinkle wrinkle wrinkle wrinkle.

STATIC

When you turn it up I feel the sound
You’ve found the sound.
Why’d you turn it down so low
So low, low down?

I’m calling to request
A favourite song of mine
I haven’t heard it in a long, long time.

People say it’s dull
People say it’s bland
Too hard to sing along to hard to understand.

I’m calling to request
A favourite song of yours
You haven’t played it since you held me in your arms.

Don’t want the world to know
Our secret telegram
If you aren’t gonna play it then I guess I am.

When you turn it up I feel the sound
You’ve found the sound.
Why’d you turn it down so low
So low, low down?

Static makes it kinda hard to understand
What you are and what I am
But try to understand.

EPCOTETTE

Doodle doo, doodle doodle do...

Someone’s got a lot to do

Painting every single room in the house
Someone takes the far and wide

And she fits it all inside the house.

Doodle doo, doodle doodle do...
She's an asset to any crowd.

Something in the drier just
A little bit too long, so trust it’s hers.
Walls made out of paper cuts
Lighting made of “ifs and buts,” all hers. She's an asset to every crowd...
She's an asset to every crowd
But she won't say a word out loud
Till she knows what she wants
Then it's back to her own
Little world.

Shrinky-dink it down to business
She will show you that’s all this is.
Don’t forget the horticulture
Also on the miniature scale.

She’s an asset to every crowd
But she won’t say a word out loud...
When she does it’s a sort of flash And it suddenly all makes sense.
When she knows what she wants...
Till she knows what she wants
She’ll be here in her own little world.

POCKET SONG

Do you smell fire late at night?

Something's burning, c'est la vie

Crossing a wire, sparking bright
Late at night, sparking bright

Whatchoo tryin' to say to me?
For you admission's always free

Don't be afraid to come clean
Honesty's one of the
Better of all of the policies.

Not so uncommon not to know

What the phoneme's mean to say

Chewin' an almond on the go
Not to know, on the go

Nothin' here to see today
But the words won't go away.

Don't be afraid to vague
Sure specificity's helpful
But gee it's one hell of a drag

Like sneaking out
The windows of a house
Words may creep out
The corner of my mouth

And it's too soon to know
It's just too soon to know
If it's hit the ground running
Or stop drop and roll
Hit the ground running
Or stop drop and roll

Oracle without a doubt
Several years it all comes out
Glad I caught it in a song
In my pocket all along

SLIPPERY ROCKS

Rode a horse this summer
Felt the sun beat down upon my face
Not the first I've disappeared without a trace

Oh, when I was younger
Walked along the reservation
Toes in sand and deep in conversation

With the slippery rocks
In the water, tell me
Something I don't know.
Please tell me something
I don't know.

Otherworldly wonders
Funnel down and on the path I find
What got buried in a capsule back in our time

And like all the others
Clicking sticks and joking through weekends
With a hope we were becoming more than friends

Asking slippery rocks
In the water, tell me
Something I don't know.
Please tell me something
I don't know.

And I gather the rocks
In my pocket, and like
Drummers in a row:
Pulse. Tell me one thing
I don't know.

Tell me the fun thing
I didn't know.

Were we something, or were nothing?
I still don't know.

REVELATION

Waking up from a century long nap
It was all I could do not to laugh,
As I stepped in the shower after the hour had passed.

Observing the water begin
Trickling down this Human-Grade Skin™,
Like a guy in a novel who's having a revelation.

I'm alive.
This time I've arrived.

When you get there, you think it looks great
The rooms are quite large, and they're closing the gate
"To keep out the riff-raff," they say, "On your behalf."

Every morning there is no such thing
[NO SUCH THING.]

Every evening there is no such thing
[NO SUCH THING.]

And for afternoon tea, or a walk by the sea?
No such thing.

And that's why this is big:

I'm alive.
This time I've arrived.
I've arrived.

I'm alive.
I'm alive.

Like a guy in a novel I'm having a revelation!

All the lifetimes you've spent by the pool
Of obsidian cosmos and galaxy drool?
It's a common mistake that you're bound to make, but it's cool

'Cause one day you will roll on your side
And give up the deafening need to decide
And a pulsating "YES" will ooze forth from whence you still hide.

And just like me, you'll sing:
I'm alive.
This time I've arrived.

I've arrived.
I've arrived.
I've arrived.

[NO SUCH THING.]

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