12. When the Moon is Full

© Robbie O’Connell 1990 Slievenamon Music (BMI)

Travel is both a blessing and a curse for the professional musician. If I hadn’t played music for a living, I probably never would have traveled to forty eight of the fifty US states, not to mention several countries in South America and Europe. When I was younger, I loved going to new places. Air travel wasn’t nearly as stressful then as it is now and there was a great sense of adventure in heading off to new places. Over time, much of the traveling became annoying as new security measures were put in place and airlines began to charge for every little thing.

I spent a lot of time in planes over the years and often felt inspired to write songs when I was in the air. When you are strapped into a seat 35000 feet above sea level, there is a sense of dislocation that appears to be conducive to creative thinking. You have a kind of solitude even though you may be surrounded by hundreds of other passengers. I wrote a lot of songs on planes even if I didn’t always finish them before landing.

At one point, a few days after visiting the Mayan ruins in Chichen Itza in Mexico, I found myself on a fishing pier in a coastal Irish village. There was something about that juxtaposition that created a sense of wonder. I was conscious that I was on a large spinning planet that seemed to contain different realities in different locations. 

I remembered a piece of graffiti I had seen that referenced the awe that can be inspired by a full moon. I realized that I was experiencing a similar feeling. I got a sense of being a tiny speck in a vast universe. It was an eerie feeling of simultaneous isolation and belonging. I was probably going through what psychologist Abraham Maslow called a peak experience. I tried to evoke that feeling in this song. Hopefully, it will resonate with some listeners.

Lyrics:

WHEN THE MOON IS FULL

© Robbie O’Connell 1990 Slievenamon Music (BMI)

Sitting in a jet plane, seven miles above the ground
Looking out the window at the planet spinning round
Trying to recall again the strange words that I'd read
I close my eyes and then I find these words are in my head

CHORUS: 
Some are born shepherds, others are born sheep
Some are like the lonely wolf, trying to find something to eat
But there are nights when the moon is full and the wolf is on the prowl
If you listen very closely, it's the moon that you'll hear howl
It's the moon that you'll hear howl

In a Mayan village as the night comes drifting down
Children on their porches and dogs wandering all around
The sweet scent of wild flowers clinging softly to the breeze
Someone left a yellow moon there hanging in the trees

Walking on a fishing pier in a drowsy Irish town
Seagulls flying overhead as I watch the sun go down
An old man like a statue sits staring out to sea
Skimming through the years again in his private time machine