Some very discreet elements went into the first draft of this. First was the news of the passing of Buckwheat Zydeco. I started, in my mind, with a rollicking zydeco rhythm, though, in truth, the vague melodies in my head probably owed more to Nick Lowe than to Buckwheat. Then, with the Band much on my mind as I started organizing the VSS show, I decided I wanted to write some sort of deep-south magical realism narrative. Somehow, I landed on a tale of a man chasing a midnight tent show of some sort that he never could quite catch. A tale of elusive redemption? Unrequited love? Failed debauchery? Who knows. Maybe I'll figure that out before I actually write the song.
[after finishing song:]
Definitely a failed experiment. Kinda fun, kinda silly, and it was nice to at least put together a semi-coherent lyrical concept for once, but it didn't all add up, alas.
lyrics
I was a half mile gone and a long-night’s lost
Walking down the road out of town
I smoked a shot-up cigar, I thought about my old car
I wondered where I lost my crown
I mighta seen a better hour if that bottle were full
or even if it held a drop
but I’ll swear it went this way, til my dying day
unless you got better to swap
never can find you
anywhere that I might roam
one step closer and
a thousand miles farther from home
I couldn’t tell you when the sound of that sweet summer breeze
took a little harmony
a third of whistles and shouts, a fifth of whiskey and stout
and a rumbling bass, sound like the sea
I saw a little stir of something like a firefly buzzing
Grew into a halo of sparks
out on the cold green horizon, I could feel my blood arising
like the Bigfoot left by the Ark
must be my fault, yeah
something in my chromosomes
one step closer and
a thousand miles farther from home
and as I got a little closer I got lost in the brush
caught up in the coppice and bramble
some kind of tent show, freak flow, couldn’t trust my eyes
crazy kind of midnight ramble
Suddenly I knew I’d never wanted anything
the way I had to catch up with you
whatever strange kind of cirque, I'm the world’s biggest jerk
if I couldn’t make the rendezvous
can’t get that taste gone
sweeter than a honeycomb
one step closer and
a thousand miles farther from home
when I woke up next morning all covered in dust
stinking like a bottle of gin
there was an aching in my gut and a limp in my strut
for what must’ve been original sin
and I don’t ‘spose I’m ever gonna see it’s like again
I’ll just keep on wandering high and low
with memories of that ghostly greatest show on earth
and dreaming of the afterglow
never can find you
anywhere that I might roam
one step closer and
a thousand miles farther from home
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