I like to take a song
And hear every note,
Feel it rise and fall.
The drums become my heart,
Cymbals crash like waves,
Carrying me home
The way that Jesus saves.
To know every bend, lyric, melody, harmony, the bassist's two cents, every tear that comes from a logically-coming thought or memory. This self-doubt and loathing. The peace and serenity of a herd of cows silently grazing in a sunset pasture, sitting in shadow. Beholding a radiant and sun-lit, freshly-plowed field of Southern-American clay. Open the spigot and let it run wide open, a full inhale-of-air to take in the right-then-and-there moment to its fullest, eyes drink in blue sky like the purest water.
Seeing the world mostly from inside my car. Always leaving, always on the way, not quite yet arrived. Prepare to meet thy God. I build the strongest wall and say, oh, but there's a pretty nice garden back here. There's a million roads we all pass that lead to who knows where? Everyone is turning out so well, hope to join them soon. I still haven't met him. Rolling with the piedmont - how about making the best of it? Lines blur as light goes low. When that yellow moon appeared a'glow over the river, she reminded me that you never can tell when the resolution will arrive - so I still am riding off into the moonset, a lanturn just over the tree line.
*Appears in the liner notes for "He's Got My Heart"
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