Thank you Brian for sharing the gift of your music, this wonderful window into the creative process as it flows through you, raw and sacred, shared straight from the source without affectation or contrivance. I am full of gratitude and inspiration. Some special moments:
My eyes lit up like fireflies when you arrived; there was something sad but soothing about driving all alone; taking her time on a cigarette, riding into the perfect sunset; my heart it sings its sad lament in the middle of the day; hey you with the open heart I know you’re trying to teach me; I tried every way that I knew but I never could get in there; it’s nice to be a raindrop, the thirsty earth is waiting for you; desire wants to hang on to the time and wants to find a love but love is hard to find and time is not enough for us sometimes; as I was leaving I looked back; I’m still looking back; something seems to be calling her name and if she answers Caroline will never be the same; on the fourth of July with the sun in your room, you’ll lie there and smile and forget about June; I picked you up and brushed you off, but you preferred the ground; we talked about forever but forgot about tomorrow; I climbed in the car like the sucker I was, with one more chance not to act like an adult; you pulled out your camera, you snapped a shot, and I hope that it turned out and I hope that I’m not smiling too big or looking too sad or closing my eyes or the lighting was bad; her beauty is so glorious she cannot help it nor suppress it, she glows; even her shadow was kinda turning back to me, with a wink, as if to say “I get to go with her”; don’t the cameras make it seem like somebody in the room is guilty, and you just hope that it isn’t you; so many words the idiot could say, if the idiot had eyes he’d fall in love today; so many things the idiot could see, if the idiot could talk he’d fall upon he knees just to say the words floating through his mind; and I watched it all from somewhere in the middle; her eyes were like the night sky that had slowly lost its moon; I hear Maria got married and became a teacher then, the kids think she’s just some man’s good looking old lady but tonight she’s seventeen again, on the sidelines in a short skirt and a cold front moving in; you are the only home I seek; when it came time for him to leave his shell, he retracted like the subject of an experiment gone mad; and if there is a point to any and all of this, some people come already loaded; saved and sanctified, train-tracks damsel tied, who can save us now?
[The night is young but we are not
so sit beside me and give me every story you got
then I’ll give you mine and in case one of us dies
we’ll still be alive
we’ll still be alive]