My creative outlet used to be cupcakes, and the crazier the better—especially considering that I was not, nor have I since become, a baker. I simply imagined the cupcakes I wanted to create and made them happen, despite my embryonic skills—the half-baked embodiment of “where there’s a will, there’s a way.” I went so far as to print business cards and establish an online presence, under the humble moniker Cupcake Queen. I had a few paid gigs, but mostly, I just wanted to make people happy. As my long-abandoned Twitter page has reminded me, I loved baking cupcakes for “anyone who would make yummy sounds while eating them.”

I know what you’re thinking: “baker,” “songwriter”—we have quite a Renaissance woman on our hands here! It probably shouldn’t come as a surprise that when I took a songwriting class a year ago, I went all “cupcake” on the first assignment. Here’s the lofty plan I shared with my peers:

I would like to write the blackbird’s response to the Beatles’ “Blackbird”—basically, a “translation” of what the bird is singing (in the dead of night). My goal is for the song to stand on its own but also to complement the original, so that the two songs can be played simultaneously. My “vibe,” therefore, is acoustic guitar with fingerpicking. I realize this will be quite a challenge for a newbie songwriter and guitar player.

I took it a step further: the last word (or syllable) of each line in “Blackbird” would become the first word of the corresponding line in the new song, and the two words would probably be sung together. I pictured two people on a stage, one performing “Blackbird” and the other performing the blackbird’s response. The only factor remotely in my favor was that “Blackbird” was one of the only songs I could play on the guitar (and still is).

I know what you’re thinking now: “There’s no way she pulled it off.” And you’re right, but not entirely. I did write “The Blackbird’s Response,” with the scheme I proposed. I came up with a melody and recorded the composition. Due only partly to a jaunty harpsichord interlude (listen below!), the finished product did not melodically complement the original; that aspect of my plan was beyond my ability, especially within the few days allotted for the assignment. I have not attempted it since. I invite anyone interested to write a melody for “The Blackbird’s Response,” such that the song can be performed simultaneously with “Blackbird” but also stand on its own. I would love to hear it!

The lyrics for “The Blackbird’s Response” are below, with an interpolation of the two sets of lyrics below that. Below that is the jaunty harpsichord interlude from the original recording of “The Blackbird’s Response,” just for fun.

The Blackbird’s Response

Night, hold close, my bosom friend!
Fly? If but these wings could mend
Life—a time too long to spend
Rise? And wither wend?

Night, you bring me gentle word
See you hope for such a bird?
Life—the saddest ballad heard
Free what you have stirred

Fly across a starry sky
Fly and watch the world on high

Fly across a starry sky
Fly and watch the world go by

Night, I need no more thy cloak
Fly I must, from neath this yoke
Life began when I awoke
Rise, for morning broke
Rise, for morning broke

“The Blackbird’s Response” Interpolated with “Blackbird”

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Night, hold close, my bosom friend!

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

Fly? If but these wings could mend

All your life

Life—a time too long to spend

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Rise? And wither wend?

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Night, you bring me gentle word

Take these sunken eyes and learn to see

See you hope for such a bird?

All your life

Life—the saddest ballad heard

You were only waiting for this moment to be free

Free what you have stirred

Blackbird fly

Fly across a starry sky

Blackbird fly

Fly and watch the world on high

Into the light of a dark black night

Blackbird fly

Fly across a starry sky

Blackbird fly

Fly and watch the world go by

Into the light of a dark black night

Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Night, I need no more thy cloak

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

Fly I must, from neath this yoke

All your life

Life began when I awoke

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Rise, for morning broke

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Rise, for morning broke

You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Jaunty Harpsichord Interlude