I am passing by,

I can not create art. I am not an artist.

I can not enchant anyone’s eye.

I can not thrill anyone’s ear.

I can touch no heart, I can heal no wound.

I can rise no soul.

I am passing by, passing by, passing by.

I stroll by the sidewalk, as it rains. And the streets are as dark

as my heart, as my light, as your hair

slipping through my fingers.

I dare break a nail, track your tail.

watch you sleep on the silk of a stranger’s bed.

I am not a priest, not a saint. I am not a cheikh.

I am passing by, passing by, passing by.

I can not love, I am not a lover.

My heart shut by the end of your time,

the dark of times, the dead of light, of your might.

The sky is red and orange

but I see it blue,

as the tide, as my heart, as your eyes, as your nails

helding me your hands, so I lift you up, rise you so you

don’t drown

in the alley behind the stranger’s house.But I carry on,

I am passing by, passing by, passing by.

I stroll by the sidewalk, as it rains.

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I think this is a song. a jazz-y one set in the 30′s with a deeper, darker jacques brel’s voice.

I have become interested in writing songs, But I don’t know how to submit it or what to do with it. Also ghostwriting.

Please tell me what you think about that and the lyrics/poem and if you have any idea on how to proceed.