On the Drive Home

I got distracted by a melody on the night drive home from Beaver Falls this evening. It was pitch black out there on the turnpike, the road was wet, my body was jittery with caffeine, and I had to shut off my iPod and just let the song in my brain take over. I had this set of lyrics:

"Before the weight of touch/Before our time was worth so much"

And I felt like I could build a whole song around that lyric, and the few little minor chords dancing around in my head. It turned into an odd little love ballad, that's actually kind of creepy in some ways. I like it a lot though. I'll put the lyrics here. Once I got home it took about twenty minutes to write, which is actually longer than it usually takes me to write just a first version of a song.

In playground days,
before I ever knew your face,
I was four and you were ten.
That's why I'm glad I didn't know you then.

Before the weight of touch,
before our time was worth so much
We could have taken turns on a tire swing
and it wouldn't have meant a thing.

But I'm grateful now
for six years between us.
I waited much longer
without you around.
And if I had known you
for all of my life
nobody would have been found.

In innocence
Before I became cognizant,
I might have thrown some rocks at you
and eaten all your Big League Chew.

Without these words
I couldn't say what you just heard.
I couldn't say how nice it is to grow
with somebody who already knows.

And I'm grateful now
for six years between us.
I waited much longer
without you around.
If I had known you
for all of my life
nobody would have been found.

Look at us,
the way we call eachother 'kid'
like we're dying just to know
what we were like so long ago.

But things are fine
when our legs become intertwined
when taunting children aren't close by
to tease us when we kiss or cry.

I'm grateful now
for six years between us.
I waited much longer
without you around.
If I had known you
for all of my life
nobody would have been found.



Also, if you're my friend and I haven't responded to your e-mails or phone calls in the past few weeks, I'm sorry. I'm a deadbeat, and I deserve to be punted inside a wind tunnel or something. I promise I'll make it up to you.