When everything you are
lives to drive a trolley car
the sidewalk softens underneath your feet
and I’m thinking about my footsteps on the street.
When the fire you collect
doesn’t leave you circumspect
but blazing trails to candy-coated stars,
you smile and ride the rails;
soapbox ventures, shoebox tales
populate your conversations, your concerns, where you are
and I think about you while I’m driving driving in my car
and I’m shaken in my shirt
future grabs me by the shoulders
in his eyes, his soul he smolders
big bad boulders bring the hurt
I am shaking in my shoes
future grabs me by the wrist
drags me off into the mist
and then insists I toss my blues
yeah, he’s coming after you.
When everything you’re not
shows you everything it's got
a spring storm rages underneath your skin
Hail to the clouds
raindrops riot on on the windshield
each impact lets a voice into the wind;
distain, dissent, and disarray
do not disarm the dissolution
deeply dissolved into my blood
and I’m thinking about everyone I love
and I’m shaken in my shirt
future grabs me by the shoulders
in his eyes, his soul he smolders
big bad boulders bring the hurt
I am shaking in my shoes
future grabs me by the wrist
drags me off into the mist
and insists I toss my blues
He’s coming after you.
about
Recorded directly to wax in the Third Man record booth the first time I ever visited Nashville.
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