Before the End

All of the troubles 
you  have to mind 
won't cork a well of dreaming 
from raising wine. 

Deep in this darkness 
I seek to find 
a single ray of light 
that wants to shine. 

All the times you said 
you needed someone. 
All the times you said 
that you would try. 

It surely matters to me 
if you do not stay. 
I'll never need to look 
another way. 

If I get sad and lonely, 
will you be my friend. 
Even if I'm crying to ya 
time and time again. 

It might be quite a journey 
round and round each bend. 
The curves won't straighten out 
before the end. 

I've never asked for 
too many things. 
Don't need a lot of jewelry 
to help me in. 

Life's little wonders 
may always bring 
watched sunsets and warm smiles 
to everything. 

Every morning shines 
on all that matters. 
Every morning shines 
with something new. 

I've found an open doorway 
leading  from the past, 
and won't stand still to wait 
for what is due. 

If I get sad and lonely, 
will you be my friend. 
Even if I'm crying to ya 
time and time again. 

It might be quite a journey 
round and round each bend. 
The curves won't straighten out 
before the end. 

Yes, if I'm sad and lonely, 
will you be my friend. 
Even if I'm crying to ya 
time and time again. 

It might be quite a journey 
round and round each bend. 
The curves won't straighten out 
before the end.

Blue Inside The Sky

Sunrise over 
a railway station. 
Good as any 
destination. 
Empty boxcars 
all grown up to roam. 
Willows bowing 
in the breeze. 
Cornfields green 
up to my knees. 
I wonder how it feels 
to be at home. 

Please don't 
tell me why 
there's blue inside 
the sky. 
My heart don't 
need a reason. 
My thoughts 
are not in season. 
Watching 
wildflowers grow 
after four months 
under snow. 
Wondering if 
they're watching 
me. 

A toothless grin 
is an honest smile. 
A black dog noses 
you awhile. 
The town hall clock 
is steady 
as it's slow. 
Main street rides 
straight out of town. 
Don't need the sign 
the boys pushed down. 
They'd like to think 
they've got no place 
to go. 

Please don't 
tell me why 
there's blue inside 
the sky. 
My heart don't 
need a reason. 
My thoughts 
are not in season. 
Watching 
wildflowers grow 
after four months 
under snow. 
Wondering if 
they're watching 
me. 

A broken damn 
collects our debt. 
Heads turned sideways 
can forget 
a nice, clean dress 
that chooses 
to be plain. 
A river bank 
in the afternoon. 
Pork and beans 
with a tarnished spoon. 
Dark castle clouds 
that rumble, hail
and rain. 

Please don't 
tell me why 
there's blue inside 
the sky. 
My heart don't 
need a reason. 
My thoughts 
are not in season. 
Watching 
wildflowers grow 
after four months 
under snow. 
Wondering if 
they're watching 
me. 

Sunrise over 
a railway station. 
Good as any 
destination. 
Empty boxcars 
all grown up to roam. 
Willows bowing 
in the breeze. 
Cornfields green 
up to my knees. 
I wonder how it feels 
to be at home.  

All I Know

All I know 
I've said to you. 
And what I really want 
may not come true. 

But if you call my name, 
I may walk away faster. 
And once beyond the trees, 
I'll be gone ever after. 

Through strong winds 
and the pouring rain, 
I've leaned hard forward again and again. 

But in the open 
I've slowed my pace 
with upturned palms 
and amazing grace. 

You've got to roll on 
like a river. 
You can make it somehow. 
You've got to roll on 
like a river. 
You can make it right now. 

Every time 
I look at you, 
I can see the things 
I want to do. 

But if you turn away, 
you'll be courting disaster. 
And no amount of mud 
will hide the cracks in our plaster. 

Cloudless sunrise expands my view. 
I stare at problems 
with eyes cast anew. 

The curtain falls 
anytime or place. 
So look up now 
with amazing grace. 

You've got to roll on 
like a river. 
You can make it somehow. 
You've got to roll on 
like a river. 
You can make it right now. 

Even now 
I cannot hear 
all the simple sounds 
I should hold dear. 

But when I close my eyes, 
I can't hear any better. 
Life's a picture book: 
Sight and sounds go together. 

All the trouble 
 I've put you through; 
the extra work's been a lot to do. 

The table's set 
with fine spoons and lace. 
Let's bow our heads 
with amazing grace. 

You've got to roll on 
like a river. 
You can make it somehow. 
You've got to roll on 
like a river. 
You can make it right now. 

Treasure of Time

Junk your car.
Hop a plane.
Leave your bags, 
and slip away
from the pain. 

It's no way 
to hold  the
treasure of time.
The earth
ain't bound to spin 
and the sun
ainít paid to shine.

Shake the hand 
of gravity.
Snort the air
and hold its blessing 
still free. 

It's no way 
to hold  the
treasure of time.
The earth
ain't bound to spin 
and the sun
ainít paid to shine.

All the problems 
that we lift 
off the page
should be laid 
back on the shelf. 
And the essence weíve distilled
from our age
is blurred in the projections
of ourselves.
So . . .

Nose the flowers.
Feel the rain.
Scale the peaks,
and turn your back on the vain. 

It's no way 
to hold  the
treasure of time.
The earth
ain't bound to spin 
and the sun
ain't paid to shine. 

It's the troubles 
that we've raised 
off the page
that belong back on the shelf.
And the costumes that 
we put on parade
are sewn somehow
to hide us 
from ourselves.
So . . .

Spy the moon.
Stalk the floor.
Run the woods,
and push your heart 
out the door. 

It's no way 
to hold  the
treasure of time.
The earth
ain't bound to spin 
and the sun
ain't paid to shine. 

I said the earth
ain't bound to spin 
and the sun
ain't paid to shine. 
 

Sticks and Stones

With a flower in the hand,
heart steady as you stand,
clear colors to announce what you are knowing, knowing.

Eyeless statues just might see
everything  there is to be,
deaf and dumb above tamed grass
that we keep mowing, mowing. 

You've got no broken bones. 
You never played with sticks and stones.
The whistling windís a monotone:
No chords, no choir, a sound alone.
The door's been open, 
but there's no one home. 

In the middle of the night,
world asleep with stars so bright.
Strong notions splashing out 
like water flowing, flowing.

Resolution has no cue;
it's just something that you do, 
like plants with sun and moisture
that keep growing, growing. 

You've got no broken bones. 
You never played with sticks and stones.
The whistling wind's a monotone: 
No chords, no choir, a sound alone.
The door's been open, 
but there's no one home. 

All the people that you knew,
and the claims that weren't true, 
like cut grass outside my window 
that keeps rolling, rolling.

As you head on down the line
with your feet still keeping time, 
no more certain of the place 
that you are going, going. 

You've got no broken bones. 
You never played with sticks and stones.
The whistling wind's a monotone: 
No chords, no choir, a sound alone.
The door's been open, 
but there's no one home. 

Lost for Sure

When the leaves 
turn green again. 
I'll gamble on that sure. 
I'll smile and frown 
for reasons, 
an illness without cure. 

A brittle voice of certainty 
amid the wind-blown din. 
A knowing green 
to lock you in, 
a wink and kiss to win. 

I've tried hard 
to do everything. 
I've walked through 
many doors. 
But in this deepest 
darkness, 
I know I'm lost 
for sure. 

There're many ways 
to look at things. 
No angle is more pure. 
But focus brought 
by sadness brings 
our feet back 
to the floor. 

Flowers on the trellises. 
No vases in midair. 
We're rooted in a universe 
that may or may not care. 

I've tried hard 
to do everything. 
I've walked through 
many doors. 
But in this deepest 
darkness, 
I know I'm lost 
for sure. 

Our stories have 
more sides than two. 
No matter how they're told. 
The future's right 
beyond our reach. 
Good outcomes are 
on hold. 

A crystal ball for worrying, 
a lifeline long and deep, 
won't calm the bell 
of one man's dreams 
that rings 
outside of sleep. 

I've tried hard 
to do everything. 
I've walked through 
many doors. 
But in this deepest 
darkness, 
I know I'm lost 
for sure. 

Home fires burning 
hopefully. 
New mornings 
in the sun 
outshine a thousand 
shooting stars 
whose wishes 
always run. 

The sea I know now 
sighs sometimes. 
Waves crash upon its shores. 
The sand persists 
despite its mood, 
and no one's keeping score. 

I've tried hard 
to do everything. 
I've walked through 
many doors. 
But in this deepest 
darkness, 
I know I'm lost 
for sure. 

When the leaves 
turn green again. 
I'll gamble on that sure. 
I'll smile and frown 
for reasons, 
an illness without cure. 

A brittle voice of certainty 
amid the wind-blown din. 
A knowing green 
to lock you in, 
a wink and kiss to win. 

I've tried hard 
to do everything. 
I've walked through 
many doors. 
But in this deepest 
darkness, 
I know I'm lost 
for sure. 

Seasonal Blues

I've been around, 
and I've witnessed 
the highs and lows.
I've seen the spring,
and been chilled 
by the winter's snow. 

But the joys and the pains 
both support 
what I've come to know: 
I've got the seasonal blues. 

Summer finds love 
on the beaches 
of many shores.
Frolicking friends 
flash and flaunt
all their fetching pores.

But soon comes the fall,
and the leaves 
once green are no more.
I've got the seasonal blues. 

Yes, I do, whoa,
I've got the seasonal blues. 

Four seasons come and go,
and all I've got to show 
is more of the same.
I'm placing no blame. 
I've got the seasonal blues. 

I think I've said 
and displayed all I can for you
the simple facts of a child 
uninspired through . . .

The changes of time 
and the joys 
of a season new.
I've got the seasonal, 
though they're quite reasonable, 
I've got the seasonal blues. 

Another Spring

Earth and stone 
will grow warm 
beneath the snow. 
Rivulets will run hard 
into streams. 
Groundhogs 
will crawl from logs 
to cast their shadows, 
and robins will tell us 
that it's spring. 

Greens will shade 
our eyes once again. 
Warm and  wet 
will cover us with dew. 
And all of the things 
that we left 
for you, spring, 
are ready and 
waiting for us, too. 

March winds 
will bend the sky 
and fly our kites, 
which we sail high 
to help expand 
our view. 
April will bring 
some rain 
for the flowers 
to grow, 
and trees, grass 
and animals 
like you. 

Greens will shade 
our eyes once again. 
Warm and  wet 
will cover us with dew. 
And all of the things 
that we left 
for you, spring, 
are ready and 
waiting for us, too. 

Come May 
the sun will show 
day after day, 
heating our hearts 
into full swing. 
And by its end 
our smiling eyes 
will close 
with a sigh 
just glad to have seen 
another spring. 

Greens will shade 
our eyes once again. 
Warm and  wet 
will cover us with dew. 
And all of the things 
that we left 
for you, spring, 
are ready and 
waiting for us, too. 

Your Father's Eyes

Most mornings find
you ready for the challenge
to work the lock
of what there is to know.
And when you sit
to sort out all you've witnessed 
you speak with pride
about what's there to tell and show. 

Your smile knows
a heat that warms cold water.
And everywhere you turn
you're learning why.
You should take care
in how you cross another
as you dance beyond the reach
of your father's eyes. 

With every day,
your statements and your questions
are more in line
with what we call mature.
Your big blue eyes
may flatter but they're working 
to absorb the light
that shines on what's for sure. 

Your smile knows
a heat that warms cold water.
And everywhere you turn
you're learning why.
You should take care
in how you cross another
as you dance beyond the reach
of your father's eyes. 

As you grow,
my power to delight you
will be less bright
all huddled in a haze.
I only hope 
you'll have a little something
that reminds you of
how once you were amazed.

Your smile knows
a heat that warms cold water.
And everywhere you turn
you're learning why.
So please take care
in how you cross another
as you dance beyond the reach
of your father's eyes. 

People looking 
in my door 
say they've seen it 
all before. 
But I'm waiting . . . 
to see you walk by 
if it will rain. 

A child trusts 
there'll be light every day. 
Some bear hug change 
to make it stay that way. 
The weather takes 
direction from the sun. 
Each center holds on 
another one. 

People looking 
in my door 
say they've seen it 
all before. 
But I'm waiting . . . 
to see you walk by 
if it will rain. 

I cannot know 
the wisdom of a stream. 
I'll only smile 
inside a thousand dreams. 
And every day 
I hold the smallest signs. 
They're only pennies, 
and I need dimes. 

People looking 
in my door 
say they've seen it 
all before. 
But I'm waiting . . . 
to see you walk by 
if it will rain. 

Time turns a rock 
into a river stone. 
The tallest trees 
are often overblown. 
A troubled surf 
will rearrange the shore. 
Each part together 
adds up to more.

Wait for You

Lately I've been thinking 
in the morning light
if I could wait for you,
if I should wait for you. 

I've got this awful feeling 
that's pressing me inside. 
It comes from missing you.
It comes from missing you.

I remember 
as a child 
about love songs 
and the things they say,
and thinking what it was 
that could make people 
really feel that way. 

Now I guess I've got it 
firsthand here today. 

So if you're really wondering 
if I'm here to stay, 
I've got to say to you: 
I'll be here for you. 

It sounds so plain and simple, 
but it's really just that way. 
Yes, I'll be here for you. 
I'll be here for you. 

Of course, there's 
more than just one reason
to account for why 
I feel this way.
But every time I see your face,
it shines as perfect 
as a sunny day.

And my reasons 
run together anyway. 

Lately I've been thinking 
in the morning light
that I should wait for you.
I will wait for you.

Bright Side

I'm on the bright side. 
No clouds in my way. 
Lord, I'm on the bright side. 
The sun's here to stay. 
You can have your blues, babe-- 
not wasting one day. 

I'm on the bright side. 
I've weathered some storms. 
Lord, I'm on the bright side. 
I've grabbed a few horns. 
No rocks ride in my shoes, babe. 
My shirts have no thorns. 

One and one is two. 
Two and two is four. 
If you're knocking with your blues, 
I won't be answering my door. 

Cause I'm on the bright side. 
I feel it that way. 
No raindrops on my window, 
I see the whole day. 

I'm on the bright side. 
I've climbed high enough. 
Lord, I'm on the bright side. 
My smile's pretty tough. 
My roots are maybe twisted. 
My skin's plenty rough. 

Singing in the treetops 
with a view that's far and wide. 
Toes in sand of all the changes 
constant as the ocean tide. 

Cause I'm on the bright side 
and standing to stay. 
I know what's black and blue, babe, 
and out of the way. 

I'm on the bright side. 
No clouds in my way. 
I'm on the bright side. 
The sun's here to stay. 
You can have your blues, babe-- 
not wasting one day. 

Quarter to Five

Start over again.
The truth might come out.
Your whisper's too weak; 
the facts have to shout.

With each passing sun,
some sand changes hands.
Our measurements make
near senseless demands. 

If you can't take it, 
you might as well fake it.
You know
it all should be here 
when you're gone. 

So try not to weigh it.
You'd better delay it. 
You should know
it just might be here
when we're gone. 
When we're gone, we're gone; 
we're gone, babe. 

At quarter to five,
an ear to the floor
for a whistle that blows
small hopes at the door. 

There's no time to save; 
there's less to be lost. 
Sure claims of a stash
are not worth the cost. 

You probably won't find it. 
You'd better not mind it. 
You know
it all should be here
when you're gone. 

I may never mean it.
You can take it or leave it.
You should know
it just might be here
when you're gone. 
When you're gone, you're gone; 
you're gone, babe. 

Out in the stars
the air's much too cold. 
No notes to sustain.
No rhythms to hold.

On Sundays they meet
in search of a sign,
to soften a fate
that's less than divine. 

If you can't take it, 
you might as well fake it.
You know
it all should be here 
when you're gone. 

I may never mean it.
You can take it or leave it.
You should know
it just might be here
when we're gone. 
When we're gone, we're gone; 
we're gone, babe.

Reason for the Road

If you looked in a book,
you might step or stumble 
on some answers. 

It won't be quite the same 
as a flame or the
twirling of dancers.

Just to try is a trick
that all wise men would pick
over other matters.

There is no one to blame
cause we're all in this game 
until were tatters. 

Life's sinking to its knees. 
Hold on, please.
You're searching for the keys. 
Whoa, you're not asking. 

You're ready to believe 
in the reason of the road,
the reason for the road.

Good-bye, yeah.
So long, good child. 

There's a use for a keel 
that's as steady as steel
in these waters.

Though strong currents run deep
you must stand on your feet
while your voice stutters.

Hold the line at your waist
if you travel in haste, 
and don't worry. 

With sure hands on the wheel,
you can steer fine by feel
in moonshine or flurries. 

Life's sinking to its knees. 
Hold on, please.
You're searching for the keys. 
Whoa, you're not asking. 

You're ready to believe 
in the reason of the road, 
the reason for the road.

Good-bye, yeah.
So long, good child.

In the dead of the night,
you're awake for the light
to be returning.

Through the clouds and the rain
light will soften your pain
by its reckoning.

With one step at a time,
you will stretch a long line,
that's the journey.

Keep your eyes on your way,
and you'll mean what you say, 
even when you hurry. 

Life's sinking to its knees. 
Hold on, please.
You're searching for the keys. 
Whoa, youíre not asking. 

You're ready to believe 
in the reason of the road,
the reason for the road.

Good-bye, yeah.
So long, good child.

Good-bye, yeah.

 

Into the West

Out into the west they were headed, 
to try on clothes of the unknown. 
They had little more than their bedding, 
and dreamed of the ground they would own. 

Some saddled up risking a fortune, 
and others had nothing to lose. 
In the space of a day's light they traveled; 
their energy burned like a fuse. 

Yes, if you try to run, 
or if you trip and fall, 
or if you reach to hold my hand, 
you might have nothing at all. 

Their wagons got stuck in the rivers, 
their horses neck high in brown tide; 
their muscles moved slow in deep water, 
the fear plain as fire in their eyes. 

Some perished exposed in the winter, 
when cold froze their hope to a stone. 
And aimless, they couldn't imagine 
a thing better than their lost homes. 

Yes, if you try to run, 
or if you trip and fall, 
or if you reach to hold my hand, 
you might have nothing at all. 

The frontiers have changed only slightly; 
they shadow the cities and roads: 
Small efforts to increase our shelter 
by framing in all that is known. 

Out into the west we're still headed, 
full dressed in clothes of the unknown. 
Like ants on the floor of a forest, 
concerned with the trails to our homes. 

Yes, if you try to run, 
or if you trip and fall, 
or if you reach to hold my hand, 
you might have nothing at all. 
Out into the west they were headed, 
to try on clothes of the unknown. 
They had little more than their bedding, 
and dreamed of the ground they would own. 

I saw a full moon over Denver, 
stuck like a hot dime in dark sky. 
Its face mapped the grace of a singer; 
its open mouth questioning why. 

Yes, if you try to run, 
or if you trip and fall, 
or if you reach to hold my hand, 
you might have nothing at all. 

Yes, if you try to run, 
or if you trip and fall, 
or if you reach to hold my hand, 
you might have nothing at all. 

You might have nothing at all. 
You might have nothing at all. 

Let Go

You have run in the dark 
on an empty road, 
watched the wizards of chance 
mend their brittle bones, 
and wrestled with reasons 
that have been known 
since blind hope spread wings and 
jailed hearts have flown. 

It's part of the show, 
where everything grows. 
The story's been told. 
You better let go. 

Small words map a rhythm 
of topography, 
marked with valleys and 
mountains and silent streams. 
Like wild shapes in the woods, 
wide eyes moving fast, 
clearly seeing each breath 
could be their last. 

It's part of the show, 
where everything grows. 
The story's been told. 
You better let go. 

As the air fills with thunder 
from a sky that can't fall. 
Tools unearth fossil wonders 
that foot much newer walls. 

As I walk in the park 
and I feel the rain, 
later stare at the moon 
with its face so plain, 
I am holding my heart 
as it hits the sky. 
To take leave of this ground, you 
will have to fly. 

It's part of the show, 
where everything grows. 
The story's been told. 
You better let go. 

You have run in the dark 
on an empty road, 
watched the wizards of chance 
mend their brittle bones, 
and wrestled with reasons 
that have been known 
since blind hope spread wings and 
jailed hearts have flown. 

It's part of the show, 
where everything grows. 
The story's been told. 
You better let go. 

Lonesome Road

You've walked outside 
the rooms of your past, 
where walls didn't hold 
and air didn't last. 
The shelter of home 
and comfort its brings 
has made you forget 
too many false things. 

That lonesome road 
that we must travel, 
no stepping stones 
to point to way. 
We're on our own 
when we unravel 
the mysteries of 
that lonesome road. 

So stare a long while 
and maybe you'll see 
whatever there is 
that offers a key. 
You may not be sure 
which way to go. 
But all roads lead where 
truth's flowers grow. 

That lonesome road 
that we must travel, 
no stepping stones 
to point to way. 
We're on our own 
when we unravel 
the mysteries of 
that lonesome road. 

Fresh out of the past. 
The world's no more wide; 
it's edges are fixed 
with space to divide. 
Just follow the trees 
that shoulder the lane. 
They grew before you 
by swallowing rain. 

That lonesome road 
that we must travel, 
no stepping stones 
to point to way. 
We're on our own 
when we unravel 
the mysteries of 
that lonesome road. 
 

Edge of Time

Been around this big block
more than once with you.
Wouldn't call it dancing 
with your attitude. 

Can't recall the reason 
why we crossed the floor,
opened all the windows, 
and just closed the door.

Counting once, counting twice,
tapping all the chimes.
Stepping ëround the middle
on the edge of time. 

I'll try to keep it simple 
so you're not confused. 
A complicated menu
makes it tough to choose.

The fundamental patterns
have been washed and worn.
So wear the clothes you're given 
though they're slightly torn. 

Counting once, counting twice,
tapping all the chimes.
Standing at the middle
on the edge of time.

Talking through computers,
buying books in air.
Hear a lot of music
that just wasn't there. 

All this information
isn't worth a damn
to cold and hungry people
on a barren land.

Counting once, counting twice,
tapping all the chimes.
Waiting near the middle
on the edge of time.

Counting once, counting twice,
tapping all the chimes.
Holding on the middle
at the edge of time.

Everywhere you go
people want to know
what there is to find;
with clear eyes,
it's no big surprise. 

Been around this big block
more than once with you.
Wouldn't call it dancing 
with your attitude. 

Can't recall the reason 
why we crossed the floor,
opened all the windows, 
and just closed the door.

Counting once, counting twice,
tapping all the chimes.
Stepping ëround the middle
on the edge of time.

Counting once, counting twice,
tapping all the chimes.
Holding on the middle
at the edge of time.

Small Truths

From a star in the sky,
this old world came to be,
and it's witnessed a whole lot of change.
Like dogs digging for bones,
we can't give up our search
to clarify why life is strange.

What if I was in the middle
of a dream you never had?
What if time marched straight
with change to keep us lost?

We are longing to find
that we're not on our own,
that our life on this earth’s not a fluke.
With a gambler’s dumb luck,
we should cherish our stash,
and slow down our race toward small truths.

What if I was in the middle
of a dream you never had?
What if time marched straight
with change to keep us lost?

Time's way older than yesterday;
so we can't think this whole thing through.
And when change shows us to kneel and pray,
we might know just what to do.

Any neighbors in space
may be light years away,
past an ocean of air we can't cross.
Leaving no stone unturned--
without care for the price--
we're hell-bent on paying high costs.

If earth's tape got rewound
and played over again, would
the heart of life's songs sound the same?

And if UFOs land,
will they hold what we want,
will they raise our hopes hot like a flame?

What if I was in the middle
of a dream you never had?
What if time marched straight
with change to keep us lost?
Yes, what if I was in the middle
of a dream you never had?
What if time marched straight
with change to keep us lost?
to keep us lost
to keep us lost
to keep us lost

So Many Things

For all the actions I mistook,
For all the moments I lost ground.
In every day there're many books,
and too much life to write them down.

So many things,
I hope to find.
So many things,
I wonder if I'll ever take the time.

I've stopped too many times to rest,
and thought I heard a true note sound.
But every step was not my best,
and still my lifeline is unwound.

So many things,
I hope to find.
So many things,
I wonder if I'll ever take the time.

Swear to the stars that grace night's look
you'll steer your heart with open eyes.
And as you wade this muddy brook,
believe your dove of hope will fly.

So many things,
I hope to find.
So many things,
I wonder if I'll ever take the time.

For all the actions I mistook,
For all the moments I lost ground.
In every day there're many books,
and too much life to write them down.

Lady Love Me

Lady love me. 
I come from far away 
to you, 
hoping to be 
united, surprised and happy. 

It's very true: 
Love will make you blue 
when it's all through. 
So, please, 
say you'll never leave 
me here . . . 

Where I stand 
with empty hands 
to greet you. 
For the gifts of my heart 
are all that I have 
to give to you. 

Though gold is fine, 
it's love of heart and mind 
that can endure 
any storm 
and will keep you warm 
when it's cold. 

Over green fields, 
leaves of spring 
waving to me. Now, 
that's how I feel: 
All joy and you 
surrounding me. 

Let's try 
to live, 
not to cry, 
as many do 
each day. 
Oh please won't you say 
you'll never leave 
me. 

Lady love me. 
I come from far away 
to you. 

Right Next to You

Well it happens every morning,
there's a big cloud without warning
that darkens all the good things that you do.
This sets your heart to pumping
and gets your neurons jumping
like your life just let the air right out of you.

Looking in the mirror don't change nothing.
And your finest cup of coffee just won't brew.
All the hoping and the praying 
ain't the reason for me staying;
I'm just certain I should stand
right next to you.

You have held me at a distance
and offered up resistance
to efforts that you sense might be untrue.
But I'll be here past tomorrow
breaking bread with life's sweet sorrow
like a preacher who embraces what gods do.

Looking in the mirror don't change nothing.
And your finest cup of coffee just won't brew.
All the hoping and the praying 
ain't the reason for me staying;
I'm just certain I should stand
right next to you. 

You have shined like sun on water
and grown a son and daughter
who know their whole world spins because of you.
And for all that we're forgetting
we've had plenty luck at betting
on the gambles that our lives have put us through.

Looking in the mirror don't change nothing.
And your finest cup of coffee just won't brew.
All the hoping and the praying 
ain't the reason for me staying;
I'm just certain I should stand
right next to you. 

Yes, it happens every morning,
there's a big cloud without warning
that darkens all the good things you've been through.
This sets your heart to pumping
and gets your neurons jumping
like your life just let the air right out of you.

Looking in the mirror don't change nothing.
And your finest cup of coffee just won't brew.
All the hoping and the praying 
ain't the reason for me staying;
I'm rock certain I should stand
right next to you.
All the hoping and the praying 
ain't the reason for me staying;
I'm just certain I should stand
right next to you, you, you, you, you.

Circle

We are standing 
in a circle. 
It's another kind of line. 
In the dull light 
of a streetlamp, 
touching hands and marking time. 

I've got to wonder if 
you're gonna hear me call. 
I wonder if 
you're listening at all. 

You can read it 
in the paper. 
You can watch it on the news. 
No one ever 
truly questions 
half the stupid things we do. 

I've got to wonder if 
you're gonna hear me call. 
I wonder if 
you're listening at all. 

Spilled across the floor, 
we're scrambling for the doors, 
assigning blame. 

Every move we make 
can cause this earth to shake, 
erasing names. 

Take a boat ride 
to an island. 
It's a different kind of scene. 
With the sun low 
on the water, 
all our edges start to gleam. 

I've got to wonder if 
you're gonna hear me call. 
I wonder if 
you're listening at all. 

We're still standing 
in a circle. 
It's another kind of line. 
In the dull light 
of a streetlamp, 
touching hands and marking time. 

I've got to wonder if 
you're gonna hear me call. 
I wonder if 
you're listening at all. 
I wonder if 
you're listening at all. 
I wonder if 
you're listening at all. 

Boy

There was a boy 
with good intentions 
who did sail the ocean blue. 
His compass broke; 
he lost direction, 
and he couldn't make it through. 

He'd left a girl 
who made him wonder 
if life's pattern could be plain. 
Amidst tall seas, 
pained by his blunder, 
he did search for her in vain. 

Come on, boy. 
Come on, boy. 
Can't you see that I love you. 
Come on, boy. 
Come on, boy. 
Why don't you just love me, too. 

The girl would wait 
and scan the distance 
that had swallowed her love whole. 
With will of steel 
she was resistant 
to accept his heart of coal. 

Beneath gray skies, 
she made a shelter 
well protected from the tide. 
She lit a lamp 
whose heat might melt her, 
but could lead the boy inside. 

Come on, boy. 
Come on, boy. 
Can't you see that I love you. 
Come on, boy. 
Come on, boy. 
Why don't you just love me, too. 

In raging surf, 
his vessel landed, 
gunnels swamped and mast in two. 
He held his breath 
while all was stranded, 
and he promised to be true. 

At water's edge, 
the girl now standing 
tossed the line that brought him in. 
He told her of 
his understanding, 
as he held her hands again. 

Come on, boy. 
Come on, boy. 
Can't you see that I love you. 
Come on, boy. 
Come on, boy. 
Why don't you just love me, too. 

There was a boy 
with good intentions 
who did sail the ocean blue. 
His compass broke; 
he lost direction, 
and he couldn't make it through. 

He'd left a girl 
who made him wonder 
if life's pattern could be plain. 
Amidst tall seas, 
pained by his blunder, 
he did search for her in vain. 

Come on, boy. 
Come on, boy. 
Can't you see that I love you. 
Come on, boy. 
Come on, boy. 
Why don't you just love me, too. 
 

Cayuga Lake

You were crouched and set 
at the starting line. 
Now you're poking along 
toward a finishing time. 
And, I say, 
where you been all my life? 

All the wandering 
that there is to do 
hasn't settled your mind 
or made old things new. 
And, I say, 
where you been all my life? 

There isn't anything so blue 
as the sky. 
A starry night across dark seas 
fills your eyes. 

Having stood alone 
in surrounding night, 
with your arms outstretched, 
you have touched small lights. 
And, I say, 
where you been all my life? 

In the windless sprint 
of an attitude, 
many hurdles will fall 
as the track turns smooth. 
And, I'll say, 
where you been all my life? 

The open door waves in strange tunes 
that you hum. 
The road's not stopping for the change 
that will come. 

With your vision blurred 
on a field of gloom, 
you should search for the 
flowers that always bloom. 
And, you'll say, 
where you been all my life? 

While the wind-borne seeds 
fly in synch with fate, 
gather up your tools 
and do what it takes. 
And, you'll say, 
where you been all my life? 

From high on a hill Cayuga Lake 
in your eyes 
was enough of the world to show a boy when to sigh. 

You were crouched and set 
at the starting line. 
Now you're poking along 
toward a finishing time. 
And, I say, 
where you been all my life? 

Pleasant Fate

Waiting on a doorstep 
for you, baby.
There's no way 
you can be late.
The feeling that's dawned 
inside me maybe
outshines a very pleasant fate.

Trees grow to fall, 
and bad dreams come true.
But there's light 
through it all,
and it led me
to you. 

Hearing a train's whistle 
whine from somewhere
as it fades 
on down the line.
Still, there's nothing greener 
than the pasture
that I'm standing in 
this time.

Trees grow to fall, 
and bad dreams come true.
But there's light 
through it all,
and it led me
to you.

Morning raised promises, 
like sunshine,
held aloft 
til evening's dew. 
Sunset bleeds
with what's forgotten, 
and hopes for days 
to see it through.

Trees grow to fall, 
and bad dreams come true.
But there's light 
through it all,
and it led me
to you.

Let others hope
and others say
that all good things
will come our way.

But after all
this world's been through 
I'll trust my hopes 
to me and you.
So I'm . . . 

Waiting on a doorstep 
for you, baby.
There's no way 
you can be late. 
The feeling that's dawned 
inside me maybe
outshines a very pleasant fate.

Trees grow to fall, 
and bad dreams come true.
But thereís light
through it all,
and it led me
to you.

A Place (We Used to Be)

All the times I've looked into your eyes, girl,
and the path was straight as we could
see.
The same heart is searching for
directions
to find a place we used to be.

I could tell you
that I'm sorry.
But there's not
one reason why.

I will stand this
stormy weather, babe,
while I search
our hearts
for clearing skies.

I remember walking on a mountain,
with a view to wide to well describe
Once again, I'd like that wave of feeling
to roll in heavy with strong tide.

I could tell you
that I'm sorry.
But there's not
one reason why.

I will stand this
stormy weather, babe,
while I search
our hearts
for clearing skies.

I accept the steady pace of time, girl,
and my handshave held the face of
change.
It's a smile I reach for every morning
to fix what always seems so strange.

Moonlight Still

There was once a girl
with moonlit hair
that swung so long and free.
And I held my arms
around her tight
and said she was for me.

Told her that she was for me
and that I'd never stray. 
And I'm hoping that 
she knows it's true 
from now to yesterday.

She has cut her hair, 
but kept her smile, 
and taught her children, too,
all about this world's 
important things
and how love pulls you through.

Told her that she was for me
and that I'd never stray. 
And I'm hoping that 
she knows it's true 
from now to yesterday.

Well our lives have written 
chapters now
and stories of all kinds.
But I sometimes feel 
like I've been dropped 
behind my own front lines.

Told her that she was for me
and that I'd never stray. 
And I'm hoping that 
she knows it's true 
from now to yesterday.

There is moonlight still
along this shore
that's dancing in the tide. 
And it describes a path
into the dark
where sea and sky collide.

Told her that she was for me
and that I'd never stray. 
And I'm hoping that 
she knows it's true 
from now to yesterday.

There was once a girl
with moonlit hair
that swung so long and free.
And I held my arms
around her tight
and said she was for me.

Told her that she was for me
and that I'd never stray. 
And I'm hoping that 
she knows it's true 
from now to yesterday.

In the Fire

  There are things I might have done
if I had thought this through.
I followed old directions,
and tripped on many clues.
So criticize my station,
and caulk it up to blues.
I'm blind to simple answers,
and don't know what I'll lose.

Put it in the fire.
Hold it to the flame.
If it keeps on burning slow,
you won't ever be the same.

Every day's a journey
that every second counts,
like a stew of what's mistaken
is mixed up by the ounce.
The gravel road of Justice
is just a right-hand turn.
There's a shallow pool of passion
each swimmer's bound to learn.

Put it in the fire.
Hold it to the flame.
If it keeps on burning slow,
you won't ever be the same.

I wonder if you're hearing
all there is to say.
Things once alive in sound-filled rooms
are still as sun-dried clay.
The wisdom of wrong reasons
is clear as one-way signs.
In this single expedition,
logic might get left behind.

Put it in the fire.
Hold it to the flame.
If it keeps on burning slow,
you won't ever be the same.

When you are not the chosen,
a dumb hand laces your shoes.
All water that is frozen
will flow in rivers soon.

There are things I might have done
if I had thought this through.
I followed old directions,
and tripped on many clues.
So criticize my station,
and caulk it up to blues.
I'm blind to simple answers,
and don’t know what I'll lose.

So put it in the fire.
Hold it to the flame.
If it keeps on burning slow,
you won't ever be the same.
Put it in the fire.
Hold it to the flame.
If it keeps on burning slow,
you won't ever be the same.