With love from children of land-owning men

I wrote this song after seeing all the development going on in Montana.  Performed at Ted’s Fun on the River, 11/20/13.  Thanks to Sue Kropp for posting this video.

Whenever I dreamed of home, I couldn’t paint the way
age would have killed the trees, time would have changed this place
I didn’t think to count how many wintertimes
had had their curtain call, still mumbling forgotten lines
Now every faded costume has been pinned out to dry
and when I called to tell you that I would arrive that night, you only asked, “Why?”

Here lies the golden grass, dry from the sun’s embrace
See how the cedar stump gashes look like a laughing face
There is a breeze that comes, but not quite often enough
to penetrate the dust with what could be called love
They built a sidewalk here, you say in April of last year
I never thought the city would go so far or draw so near

You say the next good rain might wash your life away
You say that heaven must feel just like a summer’s day
So you and I climb on a boat, stop up the drain, manage to float,
sail on a Lethe bored of its path ready to swallow us if we just ask.


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