I’ll Be A Little Late

Lyrics

I don't count the stars in the sky
'Cause I think I'd be a waste of time
I'm just keeping track of all my lies
So I don't use the same one twice
This room smells like cherry, and my head feels just fine
Walk on, walk on - I think I'll take my time

I'm thinking about the place where I'm from
And I don't think I'm going back too soon
There are no worries, no hurries I'm still young
And it is only early afternoon
My heart smells like roses, and my head is screwed on straight
Go on ahead - I'll be a little late

And what will we do as the days roll by
The boat will be floating but the sails will never fly
And living for what except the day that we die

There are two old men sitting right in front of me
And they talk about hernias and hardware
The only map I have are the pictures on their lips
And I surely would not want to take the bus there
My hands smell like soil and my eyes might take a glance
Don't let the music tell you how to dance

I have a friend who works hard every night
And he comes home late when the rooster's dreaming
Your friends and my friends, they may not say a word
But they want them to hear you when they're scheming
Strung out on caffeine in the most familiar way
Smile on, smile on - chalk up another day

And what will we do as the days roll by
The car will be running but the tank will be dry
And living for what except the day that we die

Reflections

I wrote this song during the year that I lived in Boulder, Colorado.  That was a time of learning and growing for me.  The mountain air helped my stay active, and I was very fit.  I lived a fun and active lifestyle of spending time in the mountains, partying and having fun with a group of musician friends, including Howard Hyde, who was my songwriting/performing partner (also the friend mentioned in the song), our friend from New Orleans, Edwin Paroissien who now lives in Portland, a bass player named Matt Barnes from Juneau, and several others.  I was embracing my humanity, trying to live in the moment and succeeding.

I worked that year at a place named McGuckin Hardware, a massive operation like Home Depot, but only one store on Arapahoe Ave. in Boulder.  I cut keys (sometimes 1000/day), fixed tool handles, and cut panes of window glass.  I met a lot of old men who liked to spend time in the hardware store.

I like the fact that I included a jazz swing somewhere on this record, even if it happened to be the last song.   The lyrics were very honest, although they do have a little bit of a righteous attitude.  Funny, my head, because of the cancer I had in infancy, is actually not screwed on straight - it is cocked a little to the left - but that is just a expression anyway.  It was only early afternoon, in terms of my life, if you are to look at it as in the Riddle of the Sphinx.   I miss that time and that part of myself, although the dry Boulder air is terrible to sing in.  I much prefer the moist gulf coast air passing though my nostrils and throat.