I'm beginning to remember how to enter the moment
– how to do it without the crutch
The dear thing that carried me, ferried me
Like a raft through a drowned city
There is a man on a mountain
Telling everybody, selling ideas
Has he known disappointment?
I'm worried about two friends of mine
Worried he's taken a turn
down a road that goes no where.
She's in the car
and he's devoted to following its path
Which makes me sound like the preacher, but there's this:
I know what he's thinking. I know this road like the back of my mind.
(That feeling. Who would give it up?)
One day you're driving. She's next to you. Turning the radio dial.
The kids are asleep in their car seats.
You're at the end of a river, pulling yourself onto a splintered dock
Abandoned houses sit miles away, the sun descends, almost gone
You want your life back. Your wife. Your brilliant mind.
You climb up the embankment and stand on the side of a dirt road.
A truck engine turns, far away. There's a strange
beat to your heart, a chill to the wind. You're already wet
and it's just started to rain.