As It All Dies Down

Put a flag on my profile, and
It’s up for a week, sure
On “Throw Back Thursday”
I’m a change the picture
Put a big safety pin
On my knit feline cap
Though I can’t even find the city
On an analog map, you see that

(CHORUS)

I’VE ALL FORGOTTEN
AS IT ALL DIES DOWN, I JUST
REMOVE THE BROWN COLLAR AND
RETURN TO MY TOWN, YOU SEE THAT
I’VE ALL FORGOTTEN
AS IT ALL DIES DOWN, I JUST
REMOVE THE BROWN COLLAR AND HEY

I got a new viral challenge
And a cause to announce
It’s the latest disease that
I can’t even pronounce
I won’t fly on your airline
I won’t ride your cars
I won’t drink your funny soda
Won’t patronize your bars, but wait

(CHORUS)

(BRIDGE)

Tiny corpse on the beach
(Was so last season)
Crowd funding goal within reach
(Your son went to prison)
I wish I could help as I
Scroll down the page
‘Cause I don’t know what it’s like
To work for minimum wage

I won’t fly your airline
I won’t ride your cars
I won’t drink your soda
Won’t go to your bars
A sad emoji so you can see
That I’m “awoke”
I wanna share
I don’t care
As long as you’re aware that I

Will have forgotten
As it all dies down, I just
Remove the brown collar and
Return to my town, you see that
I’ve all forgotten
As it all dies down, I just
Remove the brown collar and
“Hey, I’m no longer brown”

All have forgotten
All have forgotten

  • Maria Melodia Queri
    Author
  • Melodia
    Name of Band or Artist
  • Project Type:
    Song
  • Genres:
    Blues, Folk
  • Length:
    3 minutes 47 seconds
  • Completion Date:
    June 11, 2017
  • Country of Origin:
    United States
  • Language:
    English
  • Student Project:
    No
Artist Biography

Emigrating from the Philippines as a child, Maria Melodia Queri trained in clarinet in the New York City public school system and studied Music Theory at Juilliardx. She started singing after she joined the U.S. Marines, and conveys through music the immigrant's arc in America — a bootstrap story of self-reliance and resilience in spite of every obstacle course.

Add Artist Biography
Artist Statement

Music is my comfort food. It is crafted from simple ingredients (drums, bass, and vocals with a little bit of spice from a blues harp or woodwind) in a small room in New Jersey, where I must pause whenever feuding neighbors, their dogs, or their prized Harley-Davidson motorcycles assert their presence. Not every composer or musician has access to fancy gear, an orchestra, and an army of collaborators — but it’s the difference between a processed, packaged block of food spewed by a factory versus a home-cooked meal slowly prepared in a dilapidated kitchen. It's not the overproduced music that brings fond memories.