Lyric: The Water In Me

I take a walk along the river
I watch the current touch the shore
I wonder how I can deliver
when I'm asked for more and more

You say that I could never care
You say the failing's on my side
You say that we could never share
the feelings you only ever hide

I see the clouds above the hillside
so near they seem caught in the trees
my body shaking in a landslide
pulling me down onto my knees

You say that I could never care
You say the failing's on my side
You say that we could never share
The feelings you only ever hide

The rain is falling for the tears that
are caught behind my eyes half blind
with bitter memories of the jeers that
taunted me when I thought I was kind


You say that I could never care
You say the failing's on my side
You say that we could never share
the feelings you only ever hide

In the mirrors of frozen puddles
I see reflected sailing clouds
Here is the answer to my muddles
I speak the riddle's key out loud

The water in me's held up in ice
The water waits for the fire of the sun
The water in me is the price
Paid when you hold back from everyone

The water in me's held up in ice
The water waits for the fire of the sun
The water in me is the price
Paid when you hold back from everyone

-- January 2008

Commentary:

Maybe there is not too much to say here; this is a bit of the sort of nasty side of being married to a songwriter, I guess. If he or she is successful and sells thousands of units, why, you get to hear yourself dissed on the radio, and maybe thousands of people are saying, "Yeah, that's what I'd say to my old lady if only I had the balls." But it's not a ballsy song at all -- more in the line of Parthian shot. (Yes, tell all your friends: it is in THIS blog that the words "ballsy" and "Parthian shot" can occur in the very same sentence).

(For posterity's sake, the "river" here is in my mind the Conestoga, the "hillside" is above my house in Slackwater and the "mirror... puddle" was on Slackwater Road. But even a cursory glance at the poem should show that these specific landmarks are almost completely irrelevant to a reading of the piece.)