1. |
Any Highway
03:05
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You're a thousand miles away, over half a day by car, or a couple hours by plane, but I’ve barely got a dollar to my name, let alone the cash for buying gas or flying planes.
She goes oh babe, is that all you’ve called to say? Did you really need to hear my heart break, from a thousand miles away?
And I say..
I’d walk down any highway, I would swim the cold black waters of the lake, I’d wear the soles from my shoes, just to have my arms around you, babe.
I close the distance everyday, hitchin’ rides from anybody who’s going my way, and you know I’ve even made a little money I could save, singing folks the songs I wrote about you babe.
Her voice kinda shakes, she says don’t be playing games, I’ve had all the disappointment I can bear to take, I said love make no mistake.
I’d walk down any highway, I would swim the cold black waters of the lake, I’d wear the soles from my shoes, just to have my arms around you, babe.
I would climb up to the heavens, I would brave the fiery caves of hell, just to tell you for myself. How I’d walk down any highway, I would swim the cold black waters of the lake, I’d wear the soles from my shoes, just to have my arms around you, babe.
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2. |
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There’s a ghost of a thousand years or so, standing in the garden of my childhood home. Looks like she’s singing, in the tangerine twilight, between the rows of roses, softly swaying like a windchime.
Hey, she leaves no footprints as she dances in the moonlight.
Hey, sweet as a summer breeze that carries down the shoreline.
It was a terrible year in paradise, like someone left and didn’t latch the gate, something wicked crept while we slept, and everything changed.
Silver tongued poets, with hard callused hands, eyes like an autumn sunset, she runs barefoot in the sand. Nimble fingers, and blackened palms, the aurora borealis if it were a song.
Hey, she’s fleeting like a daydream in late afternoon light.
Hey, sweet as wildflower honey by the warmth of the fireside.
It was a terrible year in paradise, like someone left and didn’t latch the gate, something wicked crept while we slept, and everything changed.
I was told there’s a love that’s waiting if I’m patient, but there’s a real fine line between haste and hesitation.
There’s a ghost of a thousand years or so, standing in the garden of my childhood home. Looks like she’s singing, in the tangerine twilight, between the rows of roses, softly swaying like a windchime.
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David Stone Barrie, Ontario
Singer/songwriter and musician based in Ontario, Canada.
David Stone recommends:
Virtual Heaven
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Just found this by chance in the "if you like David Stone... section" - It's a beautifully warm record, clean and smooth, but without being polished to a shine. Perfect walking-in-Autumn record.
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