From the recording Life Aint That Long
How’s your weekend going?
They’re always going. Think you could ever make one last?
Kiddo, from my end, I fear a fool’s heart always breaks way too fast.
How is it that a girl? How is it that your smile
Could make me so proud to be humbled, broke up, and beguiled?
Kiddo, I am just another stupid fan,
An old weak, married, foolish man.
But you, you are wild life, a pistol, sex, and white light,
A dancing pyre built of a thousand burnished diamonds.
Dare I take your hand? Crash with open arms wide?
'Til everything stops still as you flash another smile?
I pray that this song finds you,
And wherever it finds you, that it find you well.
Kiddo, did I forget to mention my wife?
She said she liked you. I can always tell.
Me, I hold to this kind of bent Punk-Christian view.
Always try to ask myself, “Now just what would our Sid Vicious do?”
And when I find an answer to put my heart at rest,
I draw a broken bottle across my chest.
But if God could just forget, or forgive, just this one time.
If Sidney is still dying for all these stupid sins of mine.
Then grace might co-mingle with ecstasy
While my mounting stupor whiles
Away everything that once seemed somehow important
Before Jessica smiled
Kiddo, I just an old man.
Even less of an old man than some knotted old tree.
But Kiddo, can you help me try to remember just how it felt to seem so free?
Young mens’ inspiration just spills down from above
While we old just prattle on about Graves and hopeless loves
And you, you’re young and rare enough it’s true
To be the squire’s only daughter, too.
But all the larks asleep within my hat
Dream of their escape to fly and sing about you.
All the drunken drumming, the singing madly in that room.
And underneath the din, a rock rolls from a tomb.
But do I long for you, or what could have been
Had I been wanton heedless and wild?
Or is it just that for so long, I have so longed
And then Jessica smiled.
It’s a heartache
Nothing but a heartache
Hits you when it’s too late
Hits you when you’re down