Tag Archives: regret

If You’re Not Growing

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Some of my old friends
seem the same year after year:
just like they were in high school,
at the start of their careers

They talk in careful circles
around where they ought to be;
and most of them still don’t
understand me.

When I look in the mirror,
where I was at seventeen
is covered up and buried
by the miles come in between …

Old trucks, slow trains,
cool nights, and hard rain:
the little things worth
more than buying.
New love, a fast car,
hot sounds from a guitar:
it’s the little things
that keep you trying …
if you’re not growing, man,
you’re dying.

There are just two choices:
growing old, or dying young;
it seems to me no toss-up
to decide.

It seems far too crazy
just to give it all away
before you’ve even given it
a ride.

When I look in the mirror,
sure, I miss what used to be;
but I’d much rather know
that the face I see is me.

Old trucks, slow trains,
cool nights, and hard rain:
the little things worth
more than buying.
New love, a fast car,
hot sounds from a guitar:
it’s the little things
that keep you trying …
if you’re not growing, man,
you’re dying.

21 MAY 2006

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The Songs That Filled My Boyhood

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The songs that filled my boyhood time are gone,
their melodies have faded with the years;
and all my vain attempts to sing along
have left only their skeletons, and tears.

Mere shadows take their place, as mummers’ tunes,
their substance lost to darkness and neglect;
and now, like worn-down tracings on old runes,
they hide their meaning and demand respect.

You hear their traces, sometimes, on the wind,
or in an imitation from a bird,
and then some noise intrudes and once again
they fade. To chase them thither seems absurd.

What songs are these that so enthralled a boy?
The anthems of a world embracing joy.

05 APR 2006

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Ten Seconds Too Long

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Standing in the echo of the last show’s fading note,
wondering through the night about the last song that I wrote:
the one that drew a line and put me on the other side;
was that what we both wanted, or was it just foolish pride?

I wouldn’t be so worried if there was some way to know
how long that it might take before I stop loving you so;
see, I can handle heartache and a lot of misery,
but it would make it so much easier thinking it will only be …

Seven days and fourteen hours and twenty seconds more
until you come back to your senses and are standing at that door
with a handful of good reasons, each one worth the staying for.
I may not know too much, but I know now that you’ve been gone
seven days and fourteen hours and ten seconds too long.

Listening to the raindrops fall against the windowpane,
running through the last things that we said, time and again;
every word seems like an echo slowly fading with the night
that takes with it the good we had as it slips out of sight.

I wouldn’t care so much if I was more sure that we had
enough of the good times to outweigh what we know was bad;
but we got out of balance somewhere there toward the end.
I know it’s for the better, but I also know it’s been

Seven days and fourteen hours and twenty seconds more
since you came to your senses and walked straight out that front door
with a handful of good reasons, each one worth your leaving for.
I may not know too much, but I know now that you’ve been gone
seven days and fourteen hours and ten seconds too long.

In the arsenal of love, the deadliest of tools
is memory, that brings down both the wise man and the fool,
and over time, serves to remind us where we went astray
by keeping in our minds the worst mistakes we ever made

and now it’s …

Seven days and fourteen hours and twenty seconds more
until you come back to your senses and are standing at that door
with a handful of good reasons, each one worth the staying for.
I may not know too much, but I know now that you’ve been gone
seven days and fourteen hours and ten seconds too long.

1 APR 2006

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How Many Times?

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for Johnny Cash

How many times must I repeat
the same old tired line?
How many times can this old heart
be broken and be fine?
It doesn’t take a genius to opine
the odds are bound to take a sharp decline.

How many times must substance
take a backseat behind style?
How many times can a good man
walk down that extra mile?
The calculations need not take a while;
no need to note an entry in some file.

It doesn’t mean that I don’t love you,
but I’m getting tired
of waking up each morning
feeling old and uninspired;
There’s just an empty feeling
in my heart that’s like a hole,
and a longing for something that’s
out of my control.

How many words should be too many
spoken out of turn?
How many matches must we strike
before we start to burn?
It doesn’t take a brilliant man to learn
the law about diminishing returns.

How many lies will we both tell
before we face the truth?
How much of careless, foolish love
is wasted in our youth?
It doesn’t take too much to find the proof
that some foundation must hold up the roof.

It doesn’t mean that I don’t love you,
but I’m getting tired
of waking up each morning
feeling old and uninspired;
There’s just an empty feeling
in my heart that’s like a hole,
and a longing for something that’s
out of my control.

05 MAR 2006

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It Doesn’t Matter

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It doesn’t matter anymore
Who’s right or wrong, who’s keeping score.
Whatever we were looking for,
you’re set on walking out the door

It doesn’t matter what I say
You wouldn’t listen anyway
It’s black and white, no shades of gray,
So you’ve decided not to stay

What good we had has come and gone;
It makes no sense to linger on
the hurt we both have deep inside
and all the lonely tears we’ve cried.

It doesn’t matter who’s to blame;
two hearts are breaking, just the same.
There’s nothing left to lean upon;
it doesn’t matter, ’cause it’s gone.

It doesn’t matter, not at all,
who slipped, who was the first to fall;
The writing’s clear upon the wall:
it’s really anybody’s call.

It doesn’t matter, in the end;
there’s no use trying to pretend
that what we had we could defend;
it’s broken now, it wouldn’t bend.

What good we had has come and gone;
It makes no sense to linger on
the hurt we both held deep inside
and all the lonely tears we’ve cried.

It doesn’t matter who’s to blame;
two hearts are breaking, just the same.
There’s nothing left to lean upon;
it doesn’t matter, ’cause it’s gone.

16 JAN 2006

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When You Were Mine

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I’ve been listening today to a lot of early Merle Haggard. He’s always been one of my biggest influences, particularly as a songwriter — although as a singer, particularly his work in the sixties, there was NOBODY as fluid or versatile, not even Elvis, as far as I’m concerned, and for me that’s saying a lot. Anyway, drawing water from the Merle well is always inspirational, and to drink such early vintage is heady stuff, which inspired me to write another drinking song.

Yes, my body wears the scars
from long nights spent at the bar;
I’ve grown old before my time
Become vintage, like this wine.

In my younger, bolder days
I followed wild and dangerous ways;
Now I’m tired and worn clear through
by those things I used to do.

If I could go back, try to undo
the ways I tried to get over you,
instead of drinking, try something new,
what would that get me, what would that prove?

There’s too much sorrow, too much pain;
don’t want to live through it all again.
I’d rather wear out before my time
than relive remembering when you were mine.

I’ve poured fortunes down the drain,
spent nights standing out in the rain,
grown sick and tired, and aged 10 years,
much like the whiskey I’ve got right here.

You should have seen me in my prime:
I was so reckless, it was sublime;
Now I’m just waiting around to see
how long it takes to lose all of me.

If I could go back, try to undo
the ways I tried to get over you,
instead of drinking, try something new,
what would that get me, what would that prove?

There’s too much sorrow, too much pain;
don’t want to live through it all again.
I’d rather wear out before my time
than relive remembering when you were mine.

16 JAN 2006

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So Long (This Time So Long)

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I’ll leave the light on outside
so you can find your way when you come home tonight
I don’t know where you’ve been,
but I ain’t asking, I know I don’t have the right

Besides, it’s just another passing evening
You’re passing by those bright lights
searching for one to believe in
If you don’t find it here
I guess you finally will be leaving
Like you wanted to so many times before
Guess I’ll lie awake until I know for sure.

If you get home before morning
lock the door and turn the light out in the hall
Use the phone out in the kitchen
if there’s someone out there that you need to call

It’s not like this don’t happen every evening
We’re past the point of all of that,
ain’t no one been deceived here
If you don’t come home soon,
I guess you’ll call and say you’re leaving
Like I thought you would a thousand times ago
Guess I’ll lie awake until I finally know.

This time of night
gets longer every minute
When I look across the bed
and I can see you’re still not in it
I hope that nothing’s wrong …
it’s just it’s been so long, this time
so long this time
guess it’s so long, this time
so long

I’ll leave some supper on the stove
so you’ll have something waiting later on
And the sheets out on the couch
so you’ll not have to wake up to the sound of my alarm

It’s just another early morning evening
You’re tired of telling lies that I’ve grown tired of believing
The only question now is if you’ll come in while I’m leaving
Or if you’re out somewhere deciding that you’ll stay
Guess I’ll lie awake and wonder either way.

This time of night
gets longer every minute
I keep praying that the doorframe soon
will have your shadow in it
I know my faith is strong …
but it’s just been so long, this time
so long this time
guess it’s so long, this time
so long

1991

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