Some might ask, If you're a professional dog trainer, why advertise yourself as a songwriter? I started training dogs in 1987 but I wrote my first song when I was five. (Okay, it wasn't any good, but still...) I've also had some modest success: I played the Troubador in 1975, wrote the title song for an independent film in 1976, and I've gotten positive feedback from Carly Simon, rocker Ric Derringer, jazz diva Tierney Sutton, and Broadway composer Charles Strouse.
I also co-wrote the musical It's Only Money (with composer David Forrest), produced as a staged reading at the Mad River Playhouse in Waitsfield, Vermont in 1997, and having its first full production performed by The Cascades Theatrical Company in Bend, Oregon in November of 2012.
I've kept my songwriting on the back burner for a long time, but I just started my own music publishing company -- West Sixty Ninth Street Music -- and I'm now starting to market my songs. In fact, you can hear two of my jazz tunes on Laura Ainsworth's CD, Necessary Evil.
Below you'll find a selection of some of my songs, written in the style of the Great American Songbook. You can also find more on my songwriting blog: KelleyTunes.blogspot.
How quickly night falls on cold canyon walls as I walk through quiet streets alone. Yet deep in my heart I never will part from the sweetest memory I own.
To you it might not seem like much at all yet every night I dream and I recall...
...the last time you came to New York. October filled the air. And we were both aware that time is but a bittersweet caprice. A rainstorm chased the day inside. We ran into The Met and it was lovely yet your smile is still my fav'rite masterpiece.
We talked of things in Georgia and about your mom and dad. You said your marriage ended badly. I sort of sighed and nodded sadly although I wasn't sad.
We walked through the leaves in Central Park. We had a dinner date atop the Empire State and made a wish on all the stars below that somewhere, in another life, you'll never say goodbye so I won't have to cry each time you tell me that you've got to go.
"Well, it's been good to see you, what a lot of fun we had. Oh, by the way, I love you madly." You sort of sighed and nodded sadly. But were you really sad?
I miss you, I miss you, since you left New York. Well, what did I expect? When two hearts disconnect there's bound to be a little torsion and torque.
Loving you's a lovely pastime. I hope that this won't be the last time you come to New York.