DescriptionI am a literary lyricist.| SOCAN - affiliated member. -------------------- When Richard Marx wrote Now and Forever, he used only 4.86 words per line. How do I know this? Because I am foremost a student of lyricism. Always being schooled, re-educated, and humbled by how much of this beautiful craft I still have to learn. -------------------- Many years ago, I took night school classes in creative writing. My employer asked me to work late one evening, and I said no — I had class. He asked what I was studying. When I answered 'creative writing,' he laughed, shook his head, and said, 'What a waste of time.' -------------------- Looking back, it was the best decision I ever made. Nothing has given me as much joy as writing. -------------------- I never want to reach the point where I think I have arrived. That would be limiting, crippling. That is why I keep the horizon of improvement in this craft of writing just ahead of me. -------------------- I am searching for this person -- someone who has verified their identity on the verse-chorus website. -------------------- A musician-composer. Who has the passion and desire to produce something that matters not only for themselves but to enrich the world in song, in hope, in laughter, and in thought. -------------------- And if you tell me you are always learning, always the student, always excited that something new is on the horizon. -------------------- Then I would like to know you. Lyricist John Osinga St. Thomas, Ontario, Canada

Dreams & AmbitionsI write across a wide range of human experience - folk, soul, Gospel, Americana, dark comedy, and narrative lyric. My strongest work comes from empathy writing: stepping inside lives that aren't mine- addiction, grief, abuse, loss and giving them a voice. In my personal life, I view the world in duality. In double meanings, puns, and metaphors, it can be irritating, as my mind is in a constant flux, constantly rendering this in my mind's eye. In lyrics, I tend to build in multiple layers. The story you think you're reading is rarely the only one provided to the reader and listener. I value compression over elaboration, the single line that reframes everything, and storytelling that outlasts the moment it was written in. My wish -- that in 200 years someone researching John Osinga finds lyricist alongside husband, father, Roomba guy, good person. Lyricist John Osinga St. Thomas, Ontario. Canada

EquipmentMy heart -- mind --- time --- coffee --- a computer -- and a great wife who understands. Lyricist John Osinga St. Thomas, Ontario. Canada

Use of AI"I use AI as a sounding board and editorial partner; it does not write my lyrics. All creative decisions and final wording are my own."

Lyrics

Genres: Folk, Singer-Songwriter, World

Please, Papa, tell us again …

(Verse 1)
Where should I begin?
Well, your Papa was a simple man
Who came to this promised land
Where people sounded funny
At least they did to me

(Verse 2)
To tell the truth
I was a little nervous
I found it hard to make eye contact
As in the old country
We lowered our heads
When walking past
The armed guards

What else, Papa?

(Chorus)
When I first heard
Of this promised land
I begged to be let in
Saying
I own two working hands
They're enough to begin again
In this, your Dar al-Salam

Papa, what do you remember most?

(Verse 3)
I recall when I arrived
I watched for the signs
To tell me I was home
I promised this promised land
Not to ask for a handout
But to welcome each helping hand

(Chorus)
When I first heard
Of this promised land
I begged to be let in
Saying
I own two working hands
They're enough to begin again
In this, your promised land

(Bridge)
I carried such a deep longing
To leave tyranny behind
To savour freedom
I trusted the one above had a plan
To bring Papa to this promised land

Oh, Papa, say it again

(Chorus)
When I first heard
Of this promised land
I begged to be let in
Saying
I own two working hands
They're enough to begin again
In this, your Goshen

(Outro)
Yes, two working hands
They're enough to begin again
In this promised land

Thank you, Papa
For trusting the plan
So, we could be born
In this promised land

Please, Papa, tell us again …

Where should I begin?
Well, your Papa was a simple man

© 2026 John Osinga. All rights reserved. St. Thomas, Ontario, Canada.


I've been thinking lately about how much of the human story gets left out when a writer only speaks from one tradition. Where does sensitivity begin but in oneself, in reflection of what is important.
 
Initially, I wrote this lyric from the perspective of a "promised land" and realized it was too narrow in scope, so I wanted it to be more encompassing.
 
So I revised Promised Land, for the longing of a better life to belong to everyone who has ever crossed a border carrying nothing but hope and two working hands.
 
I wrote this hope into the chorus to shine the light on three different sacred spaces —
 
Dar al-Salam,
The Promised Land,
And Goshen 
 
Each has a home and a term from a different faith, but all wish to live in a better place.
 
John Osinga

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