I’ve been putting some of my prose to song via the AI app Suno. My rock musician mates will kill me, but Suno has given me an avenue to create the sounds I have always envisaged for my words – I think it’s pretty cool. As a writer, I have no issue with people using AI to create stories. In fact, I don’t have much issue with anything these days. The way I figure, I am blessed with a certain amount of energy each day and I am not going to waste it on anger and resentment, except for the lycra clad bike warriors in Centennial Park (geez, they take themselves seriously. :).
The link to the song is at the bottom of the article, and here are the words to Gundagai. Australia is a bloody beautiful stretch of land and sea:
Gundagai
Standing on a brown bevelled Aussie plain,
Somewhere between Yass and Tumut,
As the Hume runs south to Melbourne.
A broad, green hill fans away and above,
Broken rock and scrub litter the lumps.
The journey is to the top of that hill
Through three shades of green.
Fading tufts of grass stand sentinel,
Like crested, frill necked lizards,
With lids of fluffy, see through yellow.
A pitch black crow cries somewhere behind
And the lost soul, yearning notes
Remind me of her, back by the beach.
She floats towards me through the shimmer
And haze, the midday light catches her thighs.
The muscle lights the late November heat.
The sky is a deep, spiritual blue.
So blue.
And I am alone, yes alone,
At the bottom of the repeating hill
The energy inside me becomes the energy around me
And I am one, with here and everywhere.
The ghost of an ancient worn track
Winds up from my feet to the top
Black flat feet
One in front of one behind
Dirt and earth in the nails of the toes.
And small sweet flies buzz around ankles,
Telling the ants to walk around this man.
Because he has done enough today,
On this well walked ancient track.
She waits for him.
So he turns his back,
On the hill and the sun.
And makes the journey back.
To her,
And the arms he has always loved.
Gundagai – https://suno.com/s/hTsVUtcakNkSI7Eo
