(Listen while you read: https://open.spotify.com/track/6ZZlgcTu9AFLaPRY9qUlwH?si=5d7c825bd0d74ec7)
You look around you—check social media, read the latest posts, maybe even watch TV—and all you seem to see are people chasing their fifteen minutes of glory. Many get thousands of hits, even millions, sometimes for the most futile things you could be watching, reading, or listening to.
It seems to be everywhere across mass media, and you start to wonder: what do you actually have to do to get that many hits, listeners, or viewers—except be damned good?
I know one thing: I won’t be getting those thousands or millions of hits, viewers, or listeners. And even if I did, I certainly wouldn’t be trending.
The simple reason is that many years ago—decades now—I made a conscious decision not to follow trends just for the sake of it.
I wanted my own voice. I wanted to say things my way, not someone else’s just because it was popular.
Even my short stint in advertising didn’t last long. The reason? Simple. I couldn’t get used to doing things the “popular way”—which, to be fair, is often what clients want. And I couldn’t keep twisting things to look like something they weren’t.
Even today, when I need to market myself and promote my work, I struggle. I just can’t do social media the way you need to in order to get those algorithms working for you.
But that’s not going to stop me. If anything, it makes it more of a challenge.
So what has all this got to do with the song I want to introduce to you?
Everything—and nothing.
You see, Women with the Closed Door was written as a narrative. A piece of storytelling—call it prose, call it whatever you like. It wasn’t written to follow popular ideas or lean into the usual themes used to attract listeners, like love and relationships.
Instead, it draws from the tradition of storytelling—of songs that explore people, society, and the darker sides of life.
It looks at greed. At selfishness. At how people are influenced by voices that don’t always believe what they’re saying—but say it because it’s popular.
When writing it, I drew on the things that influenced me. Works like Telegraph Road by Dire Straits, or Clutching at Straws by Marillion. I could visualise it as something cinematic—a sequence of scenes unfolding.
There are also traces of visual influence—artists like Joan Miró and Dalí—alongside echoes of anti-war art and the performance-based work I explored during my fine art years.
Women with the Closed Door was written with one intent: to become a song.
It wasn’t meant to sit as a poem on a page. It was meant to be heard. And even then, it’s the words that matter most.
I understand that some people won’t even listen to it because the music and voice are AI-generated.
But this piece is exactly why I don’t shy away from AI.
I believe AI has a role. It has value. And when the creative mind remains in control, it doesn’t take over—it becomes a tool.
The words are mine. The meaning is mine. The structure, the tone, the direction—all mine.
I chose the genre. The fusion of styles. When the music shifts and how it evolves.
In that sense, it’s a collaboration—no different to working with musicians or producers. The only difference is that, this time, I used technology instead of people.
While many AI-generated works are created to chase popularity, Women with the Closed Door, like my other pieces, exists for one purpose:
To deliver my words.
In this case, a narrative that questions the path we take—and why.
And perhaps, in its own way, it also reflects who I am: someone shaped by time, experience, and a certain reluctance to chase trends or popular culture simply to be liked.
(Listen while you read: https://open.spotify.com/track/6ZZlgcTu9AFLaPRY9qUlwH?si=5d7c825bd0d74ec7)
Title – Women with the closed door
Lyrics:-
There’s a path we all head to,
we think all is a given.
But when we get there
It’s just misgiven
There’s a path we all know.
With stars above
we think it’s our haven
But at the gates
We know
It’s the path of others not our own
And where we thought we belong
We find
no-one knows us
[chorus]
It’s our path it should make you wonder
Now that the people have all gone
Don’t let others tell where your path leads you
Look at the signs on the road
Listen to the words of those who faded
And the letters of the man who waited
Don’t let the chimes and the chants lead you
Ask yourself where your own path goes
[verse]
You see a man walk the path
He waves
gestures you to come
Yet you ignore
As he walks in the wrong direction
As you watch he fades away.
no longer there.
You question what you know
For the man you know
Yet continue to follow the path to nowhere
The one woman down the road told you
Would lead to heaven
Where church bells chime
And still the evening chants continue
But the woman closed her door behind her
[chorus]
It’s our path it should make you wonder
Now that the people have all gone
Don’t let others tell where your path leads you
Look at the signs on the road
Listen to the words of those who faded
And the letters of the man who waited
Don’t let the chimes and the chants lead you
Ask yourself where your own path goes
[verse]
And down the path a postman waits;
With his letter and his bag.
Yet you shrug him to one side;
before he heads in the wrong direction,
and no longer there when you turn.
Passing the snakes,
dripping venom.
On roads cobbled with bone
you follow the path to nowhere.
For posters on walls signal the direction.
And you believe them.
A young boy walks past.
As he sings he fades away.
No longer there as you turn.
He was the boy in the streets
Playing ball all day
The boy you know
[chorus]
It’s our path it should make you wonder
Now that the people have all gone
Don’t let others tell where your path leads you
Look at the signs on the road
Listen to the words of those who faded
And the letters of the man who waited
Don’t let the chimes and the chants lead you
Ask yourself where your own path goes
[verse]
As grey skies close,
You turn.
There are the crowds
That now walk past you
Muttering that the woman had not come
Whilst one man you know opened a letter,
and run past you
The gates now beckon
With your name written in neon
Speaking of a woman whose door remained closed
[chorus]
It’s our path it should make you wonder
Now that the people have all gone
Don’t let others tell where your path leads you
Look at the signs on the road
Listen to the words of those who faded
And the letters of the man who waited
Don’t let the chimes and the chants lead you
Ask yourself where your own path goes
[outro]
It’s our path it should make you wonder
Now that the people have all gone
Don’t let others tell where your path leads you
Look at the signs on the road
Listen to the words of those who faded
And the letters of the man who waited
Don’t let the chimes and the chants lead you
Ask yourself where your own path goes
(Listen while you read https://open.spotify.com/track/6ZZlgcTu9AFLaPRY9qUlwH?si=5d7c825bd0d74ec7 )
stephenignacioart 
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