Songs come to us in many ways, but the most significant moments are often the quietest ones—early in the morning, late at night just before sleep, or through a process called automatic writing.
We’ve often woken in those still hours with lyrics in our heads—usually choruses, strong and unforgettable. When that happens, we write them down right away, before they disappear.
We also listen to people on the street, in restaurants, and even in other places for inspiration. “I’m Sorry” started in an ER at a hospital listening to a girl talking to her friend about why she was there. You get some great lines and stories by just listening. Documentaries are also good places to find lyrics, or at least ideas.
What is Automatic Writing?
Automatic writing—also known as psychography—is a process where you write without consciously choosing the words. Some describe it as words coming from the subconscious, a spiritual source, or even beyond.
It’s often associated with:
- Spiritualism – Some believe spirits or non-physical entities guide the hand.
- Psychological exploration – A tool to access the subconscious, similar to free writing or stream-of-consciousness.
- Creativity – A way to bypass the inner critic and let raw, uncensored ideas surface.
Writers often enter a relaxed, trance-like state and allow their hand (or keyboard) to move freely—often not knowing what they’ve written until they read it back.
How to Start Automatic Writing
Here’s a simple 10–15 minute exercise to begin your own automatic writing practice:
1. Prepare your space:
- Use a pen and paper or open a blank document.
- Sit somewhere quiet and free from distraction.
- Close your eyes. Take a few deep breaths. Settle your mind.
2. Set an intention (optional):
Silently say something like:
“I am open to whatever needs to come through. I trust the flow.”
3. Begin writing:
Start moving your hand or typing—without thinking.
- Don’t edit.
- Don’t judge.
- Don’t stop.
Let anything come out, even if it’s nonsense, repetitive, or raw.
Stuck? Try starting with:
- “I don’t know what to write, but here I go…”
- “The sky turns inside out and suddenly…”
- “There is a voice I haven’t heard in years…”
4. Keep going for 5–10 minutes:
If your mind goes blank, just write: “I don’t know what to say” until something shifts.
5. Reflect (optional):
When you’re done, read it back slowly.
- Highlight anything that stands out—emotionally, poetically, or thematically.
- Look for a phrase, image, or line that could spark something more.
How to Make Sense of Automatic Writing
There is always sense in the madness—if you’re open to finding it.
Often, a theme or emotional thread will emerge. Once you spot it, you can build from there—cutting what doesn’t belong, expanding what does. It’s like sculpting from a block of stone. You reveal what was already there.
“Jaime” was one of those songs.
All we knew was that we liked the name Jaime (or Jamie). We let phrases arrive naturally and jotted them down. That’s it. From there, a story began to form—quietly, intuitively, but clearly.
Don’t Fear the Words
This is key: don’t censor yourself. Don’t be afraid of what shows up.
Sometimes the words reflect fears, longings, or emotional reactions from daily life. Let them. Words are just words until you give them shape—and sometimes, they lead you somewhere true.
From Chaos to Craft
Once you’ve collected your raw material, it’s time to shape it.
This involves:
- Finding structure
- Rhyming
- Refining your rhythm and beat
You likely learned the basics of poetry in school—rhyme schemes, stanzas, meter. Use what works. Break what doesn’t. There are no rules, only rhythm and feeling.
We gravitate toward Free Form or Narrative Poetry—because we like to tell stories. We believe songs today are often too simple. We’d rather say something real than nothing at all. You can still make a catchy tune that means something—even if it’s just about being happy about rabbits.
Finding the Beat
Without the beat, there is no song.
Every phrase has a natural rhythm. Your job is to find it.
Try this:
- Speak your lines aloud.
- Say them with emotion.
- Even try rapping them—not to make a rap song, but to hear the cadence.
Count syllables if needed. For example:
“Jaime, you’re the one I adore” – 8 or 9 syllables (depending on whether you count the pause/comma as a beat).
Here’s a sample verse from “Jaime” with beat count:
Jaime, you’re the one I adore (8–9)
I respect your hunger, but your love even more (11–12)
You burned like a star I couldn’t ignore (11)
Then faded like breath from a closing door (10)
The rhythm isn’t perfectly even—and that’s okay. You can add silent beats, rests, or extend a word’s delivery to balance it out. Let the singer’s voice shape the phrasing. Every beat doesn’t need to be filled with a word.
We use our hands like a conductor’s baton—chopping the beat to feel the rhythm. Try it. It helps.
Why We Don’t Stick to One Genre
Because we don’t start with a genre in mind—we start with a feeling, a phrase, or a title.
We let the song reveal itself. Sometimes it leans folk, sometimes electronic, sometimes pop, rock, or indie. We love all kinds of music, so we don’t box ourselves in.
The only song we knew the genre of from the start was “Rabbit” (a.k.a. “My Little Rabbit Friend”). We knew it would be sweet and simple—something kids and adults could sing together. But that was rare.
Most of the time, we’re just following where the song wants to go.
Final Thoughts
Whether your lyrics come in a dream, in the middle of the night, or through automatic writing—trust the process. Let the words come. Don’t chase perfection. Let the song live and breathe and become what it wants to be.
Songwriting is about truth, emotion, and connection.
It’s about being present enough to listen, even when you don’t know what you’re hearing yet.
Keep writing. Keep catching phrases. Keep counting the beats.
Because often, the best songs aren’t written.
They’re remembered.
So get to it. Write your first song. We’ll be listening.