Going out to Mike
The only logical reason Patti and I can give for liking, of all groups, the Doobie Brothers is that it is a genetic inheritance from our Father. Among other tunes Patti and I loved jammin to as roomies (Elton John's Philadelphia Freedom, anything by Frankie) one Doobie Brother's hit was our favorite, and today I would like to dedicate it to Mike Dunagin in response to his latest prolific hobby, specifically the one titled "I can't help it 5-5-2005".
He came from somewhere back in her long ago
The sentimental fool don’t see
Tryin’ hard to recreate
What had yet to be created once in her life
She musters a smile
For his nostalgic tale
Never coming near what he wanted to say
Only to realize
It never really was
She had a place in his life
He never made her think twice
As he rises to her apology
Anybody else would surely know
He’s watching her go
But what a fool believes he sees
No wise man has the power to reason away
What seems to be
Is always better than nothing
And nothing at all keeps sending him...
Somewhere back in her long ago
Where he can still believe there’s a place in her life
Someday, somewhere, she will return
She had a place in his life
He never made her think twice
As he rises to her apology
Anybody else would surely know
He’s watching her go
But what a fool believes he sees
No wise man has the power to reason away
What seems to be
Is always better than nothing
There’s nothing at all
But what a fool believes he sees...
posted by lady be good @ 9:04 AM
2 Comments:
Fools will be fools!! Laff.
For some reason I'm reminded of a great song (one of many) by Rush, called Losing It (of course, it's better with the music):
The dancer slows her frantic pace
In pain and desperation
Her aching limbs and downcast face
Aglow with perspiration
Stiff as wire, her lungs on fire
With just the briefest pause
The flooding through her memory
The echoes of old applause
She limps across the floor
And closes her bedroom door...
The writer stare with glassy eyes
Defies the empty page
His beard is white, his face is lined
And streaked with tears of rage
Thirty years ago, how the words would flow
With passion and precision
But now his mind is dark and dulled
By sickness and indecision
And he stares out the kitchen door
Where the sun will rise no more...
Some are born to move the world
To live their fantasies
But most of us just dream about
The things we'd like to be
Sadder still to watch it die
Than never to have known it
For you, the blind who once could see
The bell tolls for thee...
I so heard that song just the other day on the radio! It was great. Made me think of you and my freshman year! MAN! I'm graduated! Where did the time go?! Holy Cow!
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