I saw you on the street today
But you didn’t have much to say
I guess that’s why we’re here
Just to make it through the year

The years they go by uncounted
And I’ll meet you half way
But if this is all it’s amounted to
Then I’ll see you another day
Yeah, I’ll see you another day

The winter’s a-comin’ on
It’s time to put the sweaters on
And build that fire high
It’s gotta last through the night

The nights they go by uncounted
And I’ll meet you half way
But if this is all it’s amounted to
Then I’ll see you another day
Yeah, I’ll see you another day

And there’s a girl I’d like to see
I wonder if she’s thinking of me
But what’s the use of worrying
Cause time’s gonna tell us when

My tears they go by uncounted
And I’ll meet you half way
But if this is all it’s amounted to
Then I’ll see you another day
Yeah, I’ll see you another day

No Regrets
Van Wagner
March 12, 2003

I’m thinking about my coffin and what it’s gonna be
Made of Oak or solid Hickory?
Well I hope it’s Pennsylvanian in the wood that is used
I hope it’s ruff cut lumber and the nails show through.

Thinking about my funeral who’s gonna attend.
Will there be a sermon what hymns will they sing?
Will loved ones just tell stories 3 for a dime?
Or will there be remembrance that I went down a dying?

 Well Hope there’s some laughter as they look back on my life
 Stories told by Robbie and finished by my wife.
 I tried to raise some good times, good times I have had
 No regrets, no regrets have I had in this land.

No I don’t want a grave, that’s a waste of good stone.
Leave it for the rattlesnake so he can have a home.
Let the likens grow upon it as time passes on
I plan to leave no mark on God’s earth when I’m gone.

But for those who will remember and won’t let me go
Head up the Susquehanna straight against the flow.
In the breath of a coal mine or the mist of Ricketts Glenn
I’ll be in these mountains all over again.
 
 
 

North of 80

Van Wagner, summer 2001
 
 
 
 

When Armstrong stepped on the moon

America stepped with him too.

But the giant leap left some behind,

Buried in the foothills of time.
 
 

Not much has changed here today,

Prosperity never seems to stay.

100 miles off the map,

But we all know exactly where we’re at.
 
 

            North of 80 it ain’t the same.

            I don’t know how else to put it to explain.

            There’s a different tune in the air.

            There’s a northern feel, that makes it real everywhere.
 
 

Pennsylvania’s hard to call.

Not just one shoe fits us all.

7 worlds all in one

Sharing nothing but the air and the sun.
 
 

The truth is most folks don’t see

Much more than the southern tear.

Harrisburg to Philly and out to the West

But they forget about the part where I fit best.
 
 

            Chorus
 
 

So next time you’re on the road

And feeling shaky in your soul.

Take your watch and throw it away

Come up North just for a day.
 
 

Once your life learns to breath

You’ll find it so hard to leave.

Don’t be surprised if your tracks disappear

And you’re surrounded by a future up here.
 
 

            Chorus
 
 

Nowhere Running
Van Wagner and Darren Schlappich
1996

Clockwork till dawn
When I felt it coming,
Slow it down
Nowhere running, nowhere running.

Go now,
While the days don’t count,
 Waiting perched too long to get what's out,
Nowhere running, nowhere running

 Nowhere running, it’s too fast for you
 You don’t see what you put me through.
 Nowhere running nowhere running

Sweet drops of vine dew
Looking feeling bad
In through to you,
Nowhere running nowhere running

Rest a while
Take it back
With out our past we can’t look back,
 Nowhere running nowhere running

 Nowhere running, it’s too fast for you
 You don’t see what you put me through.
 Nowhere running nowhere running

Oh Dunnawetter
Van Wagner and Matt Harrison June 2004

Every time I’m in Sunbury the rain’s a coming down.
Winds pick up, thunder rolls around.
The air gets cool as day turns to night
Lightning crashes what a powerful sight.

Oh Dunnawetter, the fields are turning green.
It’s the life of the land
From God’s own hand
Making it pure and clean.

Miles of water coming down today
Miles more headed towards the Bay.
Old Chesapeake up to the brim
Back in the North is where it begins.

From the top of the mountain on Mile Hill Road
See the storm brewing in the valley below
The wind picked up, the leaves coming down
The storm so close you could touch it from the ground,
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

People can’t believe that I’m not down these days
I’m not flat out these days, they just can’t believe
and people may say, they didn’t think I’d find my way,
I’m just wasting days, that’s what they’d say.

(CHORUS)
 But now it’s me, the one who everybody  thought
 would fall to his knees, and wind up sinking like a rock

People can’t believe that I’m still free these days
and not locked up some place, they can’t believe.
All too busy pointing their fingers at me,
when they couldn’t even see ten inches in front of their face.

     (CHORUS)

     (BRIDGE)
some would speak, that I’m the blackest of sheep
not the kind of company, you wanted your kids to keep.

Well people won’t believe, what I’ve done with my life some day
and my beautiful wife some day, they won’t believe.
And come some day, when my soul flies away
My tombstone will say, “he believed”

     (CHORUS)

(BRIDGE)

Looking out this window
All I can see is what I already know.
My love for you is so strong and true,
That no ocean is gonna stop me from caring for you.
Your face you voice your words, are carried with me constantly.
And in my heart all the memories.

 But for how long will you go.
 This is all I need to know.
 And when you’re gone will I be on your mind,
 That is one place I shouldn’t be hard to find.

I’ve always felt warm with you.
But when you’re gone what am I supposed to do?
I’m giving you my heart to take with you,
So when you sleep sleep on a pillow made for 2.
Will you please hold me?
Your touch seems to set me free.

 Chorus

and everytime your heart starts aching,
Know that I’m back home faithfully waiting.

 Chorus

Standing on the edge of it all.
Don’t push me I might fall.
So much has gone so much to come
I don’t need it all just give me some.

 Please don’t come here tonight
 I’ve got it all set up insight.
 Please don’t come here tonight
 Just leave your note on the step outside.

If I were a knight in an ancient war.
I’d find my best friend was a sharpened sword.
But that ain’t me man I must deny it all.
They’ll be no armor on me come this fall.

 Chorus

Please lord don’t take any more
I just don’t think I can take it.
Please lord don’t take any more
One more just might break me.

I feel I’ve lost so much lord, I’m not sure why I’m calling.
I’m trying to get myself off the ground or keep myself from falling.
And I’m sure if the one I loved was the one I left behind me,
So I’m back-stepping with a pattern just to keep it all behind me.

I grew up with a brother that I lost when I was 13
I hope that he’s missing me in our time in between.
That’s when I knew myself best and pain was just a stranger.
But now I find my only peace is breathing in danger.

 Chorus

Your son lord is near me in my life I can see him.
He spirit reaching through me and his music I can hear it.
Man what I give just one afternoon to sit and do some picking.
Me and Max and our old guitars and let the sunset do the singing.

And it’s still living in me as I’m looking now at this one.
It’s been coming for a year now and I’m thankful for the warning.
But time alone to say goodbye can’t fix pain inside him.
So I’m asking lord to take his hand and let Steve keep on living.
 

This rain won’t quit, coming down today.
This rain won’t quit coming down today.
Yeah this bad luck seems to want to stay.

I got up, like any day
I got up, like any day
But that bad luck had something to say.

Went to the mountain, to set it right.
Went up on the mountain, gonna set myself right.
But that bad luck put up another fight.

……(.tales from the land of bad luck)

It rained all day, all day.
It rained all day, all day.
No that bad luck, don’t wanna go away.
 
 

Rise and Fall
(Mar/April 99)
Van Wagner
 

There’s something about a waltz, That makes me feel fine
I only feel like myself, ¾ the time.
I’ve got friends playing jazz, keeping all kinds of time,
Oh but a waltz, suits me just fine…

 And it’s old rise and fall
 Old rise and fall
 Old rise and fall, to my life.

Before I was old enough to drive, I was young enough to dance.
I now I sit far from home, and I’d kill for the chance.
My mom should’ve given up on me, and my 2 left feet,
But when it came to the waltz, I was always on beat….

And it’s old rise and fall
 Old rise and fall
 Old rise and fall, to my life.

Tonight I’m gonna see a girl, who’ll dance you off your feet
And once the band picks it up, then we’ll take tot he street.
With the stars spinning over our heads, and the drinking of wine…
Oh but a waltz, suits me just fine..

 And it’s old rise and fall
 Old rise and fall
 Old rise and fall, to my life.

Well living down here, just ain’t so crystal clear.
Yes living down here, just ain’t so crystal clear.
I’m riding in a car, with a blind man at the wheel.

Equality ain’t no game and this I surely see.
Equality ain’t no game and this I surely see.
But a man’s dealing black-jack making a joker out of me.

Lord I know that your word is true.
Lord I know that your word is true.
But I don’t like the rulers, making a fool outta you.

My cup may be filed, and it may be over-flowed.
My cup may be filed, and it may be over-flowed.
But it sure tastes like poison as it’s going down my throat.

Submission blues lord God it’s a tearing the life right outta me.
Submission blues lord God it’s a tearing the life right outta me.
It’s so hard to be yourself, living under authority.

Roots
Van Wagner
Finished Dec 24, 2002
Verses 1999

Like a rain the past has its track laid down.
I’m hitched a rail to some lost town.
I’ll find my way around this world
With a handful of hope and the heart of a girl.

Gotta put roots down of my own.
Gotta put roots down, build myself a home.
Gotta put roots down, in some land
I need some place to stand.

Last night I wondered my thoughts in a knot
At the end of the string, found truth was all I caught.
It’s skin tight wrapping let me see who I am
Tomorrow dripping and covering the land.

 Chorus

I just lost the game while I turned it around
The winning turn is back in that town.
I’ll tell it and tail it without footprints
And fill my thirst from the spring of the tense.

Chorus
 
 

She had a way of a different kind
She kept hours of her own time
You could say she was a freeborn girl,
Broke her reins in this straight lined world.

16 years trying to play the game,
Went to prom just like every Jane.
Pretty in pink, with ribbons and bows.
Phony smile and plastic rose.

 She ain’t wrong she’s just real,
 It’s the only love she feels, the only love she feels.
When I look into her eyes,
She’s not wearing a disguise
She ain’t telling any lies.

Excuses flowed from her mother’s mind.
Was so sorry about her daughter’s life.
But her daughter didn’t feel the same,
She didn’t care what others would say.

It’s not about who’s right or wrong
She’s just living a life of her own.
She gives country clubs something to discuss
But she knows more about love than most of us.

 Chorus
 
 

She’s beautiful, she’s cold to hold.
Just to hold her in my time
And speak a sound from my mind.
She’s beautiful.

 But why am I so blind,
 The last thing I need is more time.
 It’s gonna bring me down,
 She’s beautiful.

She’s magical, she’s made of gold.
Just to show her that I care
And run my fingers through her hair.
She’s beautiful.
 

Smokeless Joe
Van Wagner November 1998

Old Smokeless Joe never found the time,
To cross over the county line.
He wasn’t one of the ramblin’ kind.
Oh, Old Smokeless Joe.

78 years on fertile land,
Lost 2 sons back in Vietnam,
Now the years run through the hands,
Oh, of Smokeless Joe.

Then came the banks with their moneybags,
Them in suits and Joe in rags.
Forced to salute a green back flag,
Oh, Old Smokeless Joe.

Now he bought a place down in the town,
Half an acre of old factory ground.
The water from his spigot runs rusty brown,
Oh, for Smokeless Joe.

Sits at night on his front porch swing,
And tries to remember how the wood cocks would sing.
The sounds of Danville (or the city) just ain’t the same
Oh, to Smokeless Joe.

Old Joe died on the first of May,
Only thing he owned was a jar of clay,
And a beat up bible to show the way,
Oh, for Smokeless Joe.

Well that old man was a friend of mine,
I think about him when I cross the county line.
Montour soil was as sweet as wine,
Oh, to Smokeless Joe.

There’s a snake wind blowing, blowing up from the bush.
There’s a snake wind blowing, blowing up from the bush.
I can hear him rattling, he’s a calling my bluff.

Don’t let him fool you, when you laugh you may get bit.
Don’t let him fool you, when you laugh you may get bit.
The snake winds blowing and you may get frost bit.

I’ve been out hog stomping, walking with my feet on the ground.
I’ve been out hog stomping, walking with my feet on the ground.
But that snakes gonna get me, as I go crawling on the ground.

You may have good friends and they may have shotguns.
You may have good friends and they may have shotguns.
But when your time blows, your stomping days are done.

I’ve been out in the woods, I’ve been by the riverside too.
I’ve been out in the woods, I’ve been by the riverside too.
If that snake up and bit me, who's to say he won’t bite you?

Something out In the Dark
Van Wagner 1999
 

I have a friend from the south of the state, he’s your every day Joe.
He lives his life, day by day and he travels a broken road.
All his life, he’s never believed in something that he could not see.
He said if God is real, then where is he now, amidst all my (this) misery.

 When the world has run you through
 That doesn’t mean, he’s turned his back on you.
 Can’t you believe and trust your heart.
 That there’s something, out in the dark.

I kind of feel for people like that and the lonely paths they’ve choose.
The only reason they can’t see God is because their eyes are closed.
In the breath of a song, or a night gone wrong his presence is through and through.
If you want to see God then just look in the eyes of the person right next to you.

 When the world has run you through
 That doesn’t mean, he’s turned his back on you.
 Can’t you believe and trust your heart.
 That there’s something, out in the dark.

We’ve got to stop living our lives, just expecting more and more
And start living like miracles, which is exactly what we are.
You’ve got to build your life on faith if you want to get off the ground,
Because a sea of apathy’s a perfect place for any good soul to drown.

 When the world has run you through
 That doesn’t mean, he’s turned his back on you.
 Can’t you believe and trust your heart.
 That there’s something, out in the dark.

Song For Jay
Van Wagner
Dec 24, 2002

Just a kid from the country, but there was something that music spoke to me.
Took the sound of the city streets and wrapped it up with a wicket beat.

 So spin those records round
They scratch a mournful sound
Spin those records round
We’re laying the master down.

While other groups were rude and raw, bragging with their golden jaw.
3 kids from Hollis Queens proved that only song was king.

 Chorus

I’ve branched out as the years rolled by, finding melodies throughout my life.
As I live to write more songs, his 2 turntables will both spin on.

 Chorus
 
 

Spares and Strikes
By Van Wagner
September 2001

It was red pin night down at the lanes, the amateurs stay away.
Vince is in his IROC II, heading for the P-nut Bowl.
He walks in like Clint Eastwood, to the sound of pins and maple wood
He grabs a seat at the bar and sips a beer like a hungry shark.

In walks Joe from Nescopeck, tries to hide the red on his neck.
He drove down from Shickshinny, in his diesel Ford F-150.
He checks out lanes 9 and 10, and bowls alone for 20 pins.
Vince is watching from the bar, this is what he’s waited for.

 The lanes stretch out like highways, there’s thunder in the pins.
There’s cash on the barrel head and egos in the wind.
Some will be heroes and some will go down, in this town.

Vince moves slick, Vince moves slow he’s gonna go a round with Joe.
He throws 100 dollars down, Joe’s heart begins to pound.
Vince shakes off his practice frames, he fires a twister down the lane.
He turns his back to the pins, he hears them fall and cracks a grin.

Joe stares down the lane and squints, he holds the ball like a 30-06
He takes his aim and lets her fly, and kisses all 10 pins goodbye.
It’s back and forth with strikes and spares, smooth as the gel in Vince’s hair
There’s a crowd of folks watching now, to see the best show in town.

 CHORUS

Now Berwick’s known for it’s bowling men, the red-necks and the Italians.
The P-nut bowl and Stenko’s Lanes have seen their share of tied up games.
But  a Tie game seems distant now as Joe’s streak bottoms out
A sound breaks the smoky air, there’s 2 pins standing there.

Now a 7 – 10 split will break most men, but Joe stands tall and thin
His muscle shirt says no fear, but he’s wishin’ he was outta here.
He holds a breath and lets her fly, he hooks the 10 on the inside
It whipped around to the other pin, and took it down with a crooked spin.

 Chorus

They reached the end of the game, they had tied up in the 10th frame.
Vince took a look at Joe, saying “I guess it’s time to go”
Joe said that’s no contest, I’ve got to know who’s the best.
You’re the one who started this, and I plan to finish it.

On they went through days and nights, back and forth with spares and strikes.
A shoot out in the Berwick Lanes, the worlds longest tied up game.
If you ever go down to the P-nut bowl, look around for Vince and Joe.
Up to lanes 9 and 10, the Redneck and the Italian.

St. Paddy’s Lament
Van Wagner
March 17, 2003

I don’t know why they knock me down
I’ve asked nothing from this town.
They want to paint me to be the beast
Just become I’m from the East.

 But it only makes me stronger, my roots just grow longer
 Like the Ponderosa Pine all around.
 But the winds can sure blow hard here, and even the tallest pine tree
 Has a point that will bring it to the ground.

So the punching bag I’ve become
To take their frustrations out on
As they get drunk on their words
They just grind me into the dirt.

Chorus

On this St. Paddy’s Day
For once I can feel the same
For I’ve come to a new land
And been met with a hard hand.

Chorus
 
 
 

Sweet Pickle Barrel
By Van Wagner  June 2002

This world is full of exit ramps
It’s the road of life but you just get one chance.
You’ve got to go just where you feel.
I don’t buy any squawk or talk
About predetermination before you can walk
I got a feeling it’s much more real.

 Don’t go looking for sweetness in the bottom of a pickle barrel
 Don’t go looking for hard rock in the tune of the wild wood flower.
 Don’t look for true love, down at the corner bar
 Don’t search for sunrise in the day’s final hour.

Now don’t get me wrong I surely believe
In the lord above and that he’s looking after me
There’s no way I could make it alone.
He may know when he’s calling me away
But until then there’re quite a few days
It’s in my hands where I make them go.

Chorus

So red is red and black is blue
What it is to me may not be for you
I didn’t mean that when I wrote this song.
Everybody’s got their own beliefs
That’s about the coolest thing to me
I just offer my thoughts right or wrong.

Chorus

 When you see an open door you better take it.
 When your break comes by you best not break it.
 Cause there’s no guarantee you’ll get it back.
 No there’s no guarantee you’ll get it back

If your pen starts slipping write it down.
When your ride starts leaving get out of town.
when you’re told you’ve lost get up and win.
And each time you fall down get up again.

 Chorus

When it’s dark and the day is going down
Remember the sun will be back around.
Don’t you ever hang your head down low,
Cause if your chance comes you will not know.

 Chorus

You’re gonna meet some people turning cheeks
And you’ll meet a man whose pocket leaks.
And the Truth won’t always be in your hand.
But they’ll always be someone who understands..

 Chorus
 

I had a friend names whiskey Lou who drank his dreams away.
They found him dead in the river one day, his lips cold as the clay.
He had cut his hand on a broken heart, back in 1972.
He sings his pain with a bottled refrain but his singing now is through.

Please lord take this bottle, smash it on the stone.
I pray those demons stay far away, and leave us folks alone.

I knew a girl from down the road hair as fine as the wind.
Just a smile from her could knock me down, her eyes could do just the same.
But the years passed on and the shine was gone, there was wind for her hair.
Her eyes showed scars of prison bars, she’d shut the door and drank the keys

 Chorus

I’ve been the slave of a cigarette steel chains in every drag.
I still hear him scratching on my door, I’m so close to letting him in.
We’ve all got bottles with some kind of poison we choke ourselves as we drink
The sting of liquor or the lies of lust, poisons that kill within.

 Chorus

Through out life I‘ve been meeting men
that tell me I’ve got to be like them.
Said if I try to be unique
someone’s gonna step on my feet.
I guess I better start wearing steel toed boots, I’m a Herman survivor.

They complain about the way I dress,
my styles are outdated and my cloths are a mess.
They hate me and my clothes it seems,
they even hate the holes in my jeans,
I got holes in my shoes, holes in my socks, and holes in my briefs…
I suppose I’m a holy man!…they’re not much for religion I guess.

Well my appearance is only half the story,
 my music accounts for most the glory.
You ought to see the looks on their faces
when I pull out my banjo at most places…
Kids run and hide, husbands hide their wives, The SPCA turns the dogs loose, I think they’re afraid of its size, and the 5th string.

MTV MTV,
everybody’s always telling me.
Saying my music ain’t cool my music is weird,
get that mandolin outta here!
Bluegrass is for hillbillies….thank you, I always appreciate compliments.

I hope there’s still some people out there
who aren’t afraid to take the dare.
Be yourself be unique, and if anybody steps on your feet,
give me a call, I’ve got a few extra pair of Herman survivor boots around here somewhere…..
thank God we’re not all the same…that would be about as useful as teats on a bore hog!

Talking Hegins Pigeon Shoot Blues
by Karl Shellenberger and Van Wagner May 2002
 

Get out your shotguns boys and girls
We're heading up on top of the world
Where the men are men and the women are too
Heading up the Hegins pigeon shoot
Boys become men
Girls become women
Pigeons become broken-hearted

They have their scrapple as the sun comes up
They head out to Hegins in their pickup trucks
Their shotguns shining in the morning sun
Time to get drunk and have some fun
Lead a-flyin'
Feathers dying
Big men, little birds.

Now that all the smoke has cleared
There's 300 pigeons lying there
The boy scouts run out to ring the necks
Of the pigeons still sucking breath
They're trying to live
They're trying to breathe
How dare they? Don’t they know this is a pigeon shoot

To those of you that think it's wrong
That's why we composed this song
And to those of you who are confused
This is what to gotta do:
Get out your 12-gauge
Head on up to Schuylkill County
Win friends and influence uncles

the hegins pigeon shoot is no more
cause the animal rights people won their war
so if you got the urge to shoot some pigeons
stay away from a town called hegins

Talking Progress Blues
by Van Wagner
Dec. 31, 99

I was out for a drive the other day,
and thought about the farm land blowing away
thought about the soil, thought about the land
thought about the farmer, thought about his hands
callouses so thick they could bust a jack hammer.

It’s the same thing as I look around,
tear up the farms dice up the ground
build another shopping plaza,
 throw in some neon to give it pazaz-a
build some condos, throw in a mini-mall, the world can always use another parking lot.

There’s one thing I’ve never seen
tearing down a mall to plant some seed.
Imagine where there once was a store,
now there’s nothing but rows of corn.
Sounds pretty good to me, I’d shop there.

I’m told the way it is today
it’s better to grow houses than hay.
The markets low and who can blame them,
for all they do it’s a sin what we pay them.
Make more money planting asphalt, I hear it’s got a good yield,
and it’s drought resistant.

Well I guess there’s nothing to worry for
cause that’s what our politicians are for.
We elect them down to Washington D.C
and they know what’s best for you and me
I’m sure we’ll always have enough food and clean water...
but I wouldn’t bet the farm on it.

That River
 
 

It was the hottest August night, kill the engine dim the lights

The river

My heart in my throat, turned up the radio

The river

I stole from Hollywood, cheesy line no good

The river

Her standards were low even I had a go

The moon was full as a Danville Pint, on the shore.
 
 

          Oh you should have seen it

          Oh you’d feel it

          Deep in your soul
 
 

Saturday 8am, you could see it begin

That river

28 feet, this is big, not since 96

That river

Did the best that we could, leave the metal save the wood

That river

By dark it was up, now a boat no more truck

To the deck we retreat a good friend and me, bring it on.
 
 

Chorus
 
 

They said it can’t be done the bets all were on,

Against us.

The river far too low, the current too slow

Against us

100 years gone by, no one had even tried

against us

Call it stubborn call it luck, 20 miles “we ain’t  stuck.”

Explain it how you must the water, 5 of us sailed on.
 
 

The Ballad of Jesse Jones
Van Wagner  1996/1997

Well way up Clinton County way, lives a man named Jesse Jones,
In a shack built on a steep hillside he’s lived for years all alone.
All his friends told him not to go, but he swore that it was his fate.
And the years roll by and it’s tearing him down, lord soon it’s gonna be too late.

It was 19 hundred and 29, when he left his home on the flats.
Working as a boy in the big iron mill, throwing slag as his soul went black.
Well he quit that town and he left his home, telling all he’d never be back.
As the sun went down on Danville town he started walking them railroad tracks.

He found his way up northern state, cutting timber on old Kettle Creek.
But the Market bottomed out and he found himself all alone without a job again.
He took to the trees with no money in his hand, to live a live off of the land.
Like the fog on the mountains, he rolled away, the only prayer was the gun in his hand.

Cold and bitter he now sits by a fire, trying to count the years gone by.
And the Fires burning low and the woods all gone, and the old man is getting tired.
He stands up out of that old rocking chair, and he tilts his crooked head up at the sky…
Saying “why my God have you forgotten me, the only point to my life is to die?”

Well the wind blows cold on the northern tier as an old man comes down from the hills,
Tired and worn he heads south on a road, crawling back to old Danville.
All his friends told him not to go, but he swore that it was his fate.
And the years rolled by and it’s tearing him down, lord soon it’s gonna be too late.
 

The Cowboy and The Hippy
Van Wagner 1998

Now the cowboy and the hippy are sitting and talking of life.
And the Cowboy looks up to catch the sun sinking to the night.
He says “that’s how it goes..you’re up then you’re down for a while.”
Then the hippy looks up from his drink to agree with a smile.

 It’s fountains of dreams and puddles of luck,
How they stumble through life and never get stuck.
Just a cowboy and a hippy too scared to wake up,
All they ask of tomorrow is to see the sun come up.

The hippy keeps talking about a band he’s trying  to find.
A bunch of good guys, who can all keep good time.
He says “I hear this music in my head every time I sleep..
And it’s just a matter of time, before that band finds me.”

 It’s fountains of dreams and puddles of luck,
How they stumble through life and never get stuck.
Just a cowboy and a hippy too scared to wake up,
All they ask of tomorrow is to see the sun come up.

Now the night has set in, and the place is ready to close.
So they gather their things and head outside by the road.
The cowboy tips his hat, and the hippy just smiles a goodbye..
Then both of their eyes are caught by a diesel running by.

 It’s fountains of dreams and puddles of luck,
How they stumble through life and never get stuck.
Just a cowboy and a hippy too scared to wake up,
All they ask of tomorrow is to see the sun come up.

Now the summers getting closer the winters winding down.
My heart can’t catch a bit of rest, my thoughts won’t settle down.

The thing that’s got me scared the most, it chills me to the bone
Is not the fear of losing you, but seeing you alone.

So each night when you go to bed, where ever you may be
Remember there’s a prayer for you, for every star you see.

I don’t want to lose you.

The Leatherman is your best friend on your journey through life,
With it’s trusty pliers and its razor sharp life.
The handle won’t fall apart like the generic brands
There’s only one true American Leatherman.

 All the ladies know that this tools for real
 Made of the finest steel, just see how it feels
 When you break a string while you are performing
 To pull the peg, reach down to the top of your leg.

Have you ever been stuck in your harmonica holder?
And you couldn’t get it loose with a 2-ton boulder.
Just take that trusty tool to that stubborn bolt,
And you’ll bust out of that holder like a wild colt.

Chorus

When you’re on a date and the night is to it’s end.
And you walk her to the door and she invites you in.
Don’t hesitate, procrastinate juts go on in,
When your stomach gets queasy reach for your Leatherman.

Chorus

I’ve got to find it, got to find my way back in.
I can feel it’s presence, like a ghost wind chilling the air.
And I can see that I belong there to this day.
I’m gonna get back to the mountain someday,
but until I do there’s always “someday.”

 I can feel it all coming back
 Never gonna leave my track.
 Burned into my heart
 Even when it’s so dark.

When I see her I want to stop the space between.
When I’m with her, every move comes straight out of me.
Her scars of ages tell the years that have seen her before.
But her beauty lies in her spirit evermore.
and that’s why, I take her hand in mine.

 Chorus

The Story of Scott Wagner
Van Wagner 1995/1996

Well sit back friends and I’ll tell you, about a ramblers’ ways,
It’s the story of Scott Wagner, from up Alaska way.

He comes around when he feels like it, and passes the family around,
And when asked about his childhood, all he’s got is his town.
He’s been up and down Susquehanna, and the Mississip has been his too.
He’s fished the Pacific Ocean, and the Yukon through and through.

His brothers are lawyers and bosses, and his father was a lawyer at heart,
Yet he’s not like the others, he’s always been apart.
He knows the value of a dollar, and all the trouble it brings,
But When friends are down and troubled, he offers all he can give.

His life’s been saved on a ladder, by a parking meter below
And the local politicians say “that’s where your taxes go.”
He could spend hours and hours, just walking around in a field,
Pickin’ up arrowhead pieces, and handing them all to me.

Grover was a hell of a rover, he’d tell you if he wanted you to know,
But if you ever asked about his mind, the answer…only God knows.
When I asked him about his old guitar, about where he found it and when.
He just shrugged his shoulders, and ran his fingers through the wind.

Well I guess that’s part of his story…the end will never be told.
For his roads keep on getting longer, and his feet are getting too old.
So if you ever pass a rambler, be sure to look in his eyes,
For they’ve seen life on the outside, and that’s where the answer may lie.

There Was A Time (those days are gone)
1997-1998
Van Wagner
 

There was a time when I was so alone,
I had me a blanket but I was so cold.
There was a time when I knew no way to go,
That’s cause I was living like I was here alone

 But those days are gone
 Days are gone
 Those days are gone,
 Days are gone.

There was a time when I knew no friends
They were all after the same thing.
There were some days that all seemed the same,
Just a broken record day after day.

 Chorus

There was a time when music filled the room,
We were all humming the same tune.
But we all got old and started singing all new songs
I wish I hadn’t grown up and gone so wrong.

 Chorus

It’s time I step back, and step back once again.
Just a few more years where I can be young again.
They say that age is just a frame of mind,
It seems my picture got lost somewhere down the line

 Chorus

He left for Baltimore when he was just a kid
That’s where I met him in the fall of 36.
In a smoky pool hall on 89th and spruce
We knew he was a country boy by the size of his boots.
With a home-made pool stick he began to show his stuff
I lost 3 packs of cigarettes and I had seen enough.
Bet tobacco and dungarees
But when the winter wind blows again we’ll  be thick as thieves.

We became the best of friends me and Sam
Shot pool all over town and rambled through the land.
Hobo-ed on freighters, on the B&O tracks
Took nothing with them but the shirts on their backs.
Dodging railroad bulls in almost every town
Most nights our pillow was a stone on the ground.
Living off cabbage and black eyed peas
But when the winter wind blows again we’ll  be thick as thieves.

Got split by draft cards in the spring of 44
I got shipped to Iceland to a cold ocean shore.
Sam got sent to Italy and on to the front
I lost touch with him after a month.
But I listened to the headlines on the BBC
Thought about my good friend and where he might be.
I often wondered was he alive like me
But when the winter wind blows again we’ll  be thick as thieves.

Now 50 years later I’m an old man
I help with the church choir and little league when I can.
I rarely think about those years of the war
And old Sam’s memory is faded and worn.
I moved on with life, married and settled down
I’m far from that kid in Baltimore town.
Now we’re different Sam and me
But when the winter wind blows again we’ll  be thick as thieves.

I looked at my grandkids this memorial day
And it took me back to those Baltimore days.
At 5 O’clock the telephone rang
There was quiet, then a voice did say
“Hey kid are you up for a game
dust off your cue stick the rules are still the same
I’m at the pool hall, just cigarettes and me
when the winter wind blows again we’ll  be thick as thieves.”

This Dollar Goes Round and Round
Van Wagner Sept-Nov, 1999

This dollar goes round and round

Some folks work and honest day and earn an honest wage,
Some folks come into the world with millions in the bank.
Some live off of charity be it wrong or right,
Some hold their breath all day and kiss lady luck goodnight.

40 hours of labor surely has its due
For 40 strings in a bar room knocking down the brew.
Some believe in savings and some believe in fun,
I’ll take the best of both worlds and save my money for my fun.

 And this dollar goes round and round,
 In the pockets of everyone in town,
 It’s been through the best, and been through the worst,
 It’s been a blessing and it’s been a curse.

I remember when a phone call only cost a dime
And 18 cents on a letter sent it down the line.
And the thing that scares me most of all is my hair ain’t even gray,
Just imaging in 20 years what we’re gonna pay.

“A fool and his money aren’t together very long”,
The words of a wise man so I’ll stick them in this song.
So lay your silver dollar down its time to play the fool,
And pass it on to someone else that’s the silver dollar rule.

(Chorus)

(Break)

(Chorus)

This World’s Got More
Van Wagner 1997

If I were poor, When I woke up tomorrow
Would you still take a chance on me?
It seems this world can turn on a dollar
And leave you scrounging for anything shiny that you see.

 This world’s got more inside it,
 Some get lost while others might find it.
 That’s just how it goes, everything day by day.
 A dollar ain’t nothing but, one man’s dream and another man’s bad luck.
 I can’t build my life on someone else’s broken dreams

If all I had, just blew away like dry dirt
Would you still see me, as your closest friend?
There’s no telling when rain could turn to a dry spell
And leave your soul thirsty and praying that it ends.

 This world’s got more inside it,
 Some get lost while others might find it.
 That’s just how it goes, everything day by day.
 A dollar ain’t nothing but, one man’s dream and another man’s bad luck.
 I can’t build my life on someone else’s broken dreams

Sometimes I feel like old water on the boil
Going stale as the pot goes dry.
All closed up in this copper kettle,
Scratching off the days, as they go passing by.

 This world’s got more inside it,
 Some get lost while others might find it.
 That’s just how it goes, everything day by day.
 A dollar ain’t nothing but, one man’s dream and another man’s bad luck.
 I can’t build my life on someone else’s broken dreams

I don’t know why that I love her so
Maybe her smile or her skin,
But I know it is something that is driving me wild
No I can’t put my finger on it.

I know I usually don’t ask you much
But this ain’t no time for pride.
Come on, let me in, put my Jones-in’ to an end.
I need some of what you got inside.

 She got lager from Pottsville
 She got single malt Scotch Whiskey
 She got roots on the Schuylkill
 And Tobacco from Tennessee

Some don’t believe in love at first sight,
They say that’s for fairy tales and such.
But I know it’s for real, there’s no faking how I feel.
With You I just can’t get enough.

My folks raised me to be cultured and such
To appreciate the finer things in life.
But I waste no time with cappuccino or wine,
No I prefer the culture of my wife.

 Chorus

Trees

All my life for all that I've known him
All the years that we've been friends.
One thing that always surrounds you
Are the trees all over God's land.

These trees tell your story
These trees inspire life.
Chestnut Oak all over Bald Top
To White Birch for you and your wife.

Green Hemlock the forests of Krislund
Silver Maple on the river shore
Cherry Blossoms all over Washington
Bamboo at China's Door.

Giant Pine of California
Sugar Maple on the Ohio farm.
Norway Spruce where you met Sonia
Here again at the Pine Barn.

Olive Trees of Northern Tunisia
Black Cherry in Allegheny's Hills
Childhood for Sonia and Sara
A grandmothers love that's with you still.

White Oak of Schuylkill county
American Elm of Dickenson Law
You've been, together in nature
And now forever more.

Doug Fir now in Riverside
As you turn your house to a home.
Remember this link you have with each other
Surrounded by trees you're never alone.
Surrounded by trees you're never alone.
 
 

Vinyl
March 28, 2003
Van Wagner

Used to like the way the library creaked
The sound of old floors under my feet.
The smell of time, old books in the air
Passed by the fossils and head upstairs.
At the top of the steps I’d turn to the right
And there behold a beautiful site.

Vinyl, oh dusty vinyl
That cracks and pops like a fire
Vinyl, oh dusty vinyl
Music never sounded finer

When my brother lived in Arkansas
I went to see him, when I was 16 years old.
In the corner of his living room
I found a treasure to heal my gloom.
“Hawks and Doves” “Comes a Time”
“Rust Never Sleeps” and “Tonight’s The Night”

Chorus

But now very few records are made
It’s hard to find a needle and a good turntable.
Someday while my grandkids play
They’ll find my records in an old soda crate
What will they think when they dust them off
And Find Leadbelly or Seals and Croft?

Chorus
 
 

Here’s to our friends in the VFW
Don’t you forget all they’ve done for you,
Without them where would you be now?
With hearts of steel and hands of iron,
Don’t you let the hands of time
Erase all that they have done.

Some are gone, but not forgotten,
remembered by the cause they fought in
only to see it slip away.
It’s hard for us to see the blood loss
Thawed like the mountains first frost
Still in all it’s the heart of our land.

 Chorus

Looking back it’s in my lifeblood
As full of life as the rolling creek mud
Waiting for roots to take a hold.
Holding all with all it’s got left
Alone it will never come to sweet rest
In the river of life, you can’t walk alone.

Can see now what’s in our hands.
No silver dollar nor golden watch band
What we’ve got is deeper in the soul.
Reach on in and take a hold now
Grab on with all your might now
In your hand lies the whole  world.

Chorus
 

Walk of Shame
Van Wagner 1998
 

She’s too young to be worn out, as she walks on back to her room,
With the night folded in her arms and she smells of stale perfume.
She had it all planned out, every detail up in her head.
Now her mind is emptiness and her eyes are glazed and red.

 It gets hard, to do it over and over.
 With every night, just the same.
 Her face is covered over.
 As she walks, the walk of shame.

Her cheeks are stained from make-up from tears streaking down.
She prays she doesn’t see anyone, as she hurries across the town.
She could waste her time, and ask what she already knows,
Last night was no surprise, it’s just the way things go.

 It gets hard, to do it over and over.
 With every night, just the same.
 Her face is covered over.
 As she walks, the walk of shame.

She’s done it all many times before, it’s getting like routine.
She soaks her nights in alcohol, and hopes the day goes clean.
But the good times fade away like the words he spoke last night.
She’s not sure if it’s all wrong, but she can’t say if it’s right.

 It gets hard, to do it over and over.
 With every night, just the same.
 Her face is covered over.
 As she walks, the walk of shame.

Walking the Streets
Brian Crane and Van Wagner
December 14, 2003

Saturdays on main street
Farmers and crops.
Couple packs of baseball cards
Donruss and Topps.

Stop by the Twin Kiss
Grab a grape slush.
Head up to Lovers Leap
Hang off the bluff.

    Walking the streets of my old town.
    They can’t tear my memories down.
    Concrete crumbles, streets go stale.
    Far too real for any ferry tale.

Stop by the River View
A game of crooked pool.
Town and Country of Martins
As blue as a mule.

Late night at Stingers
Second hand smoke.
21 and done
Then I awoke.

Chorus

Many years later.
I walk around.
The streets are still the same.
At least on the ground.

I’ve got some photographs
I carry with me.
They’re worth a thousand words
My memories.
 
 

Cardboard boxes, 2 x 4’s, toilet paper and a new skateboard
Good guitar to pick out on, piece of paper to write this song.

But we blame the logger and miner underground
Criticize the rancher and farmer out of town.
If you want to blame someone, just follow us to the store
We’re the ones screaming gimee “more, more, more.”

Big Macs Whoppers with cheese, chicken wings, cold ice cream.
Leather coat, sneakers too, brand new purse and Spanish boots.

Look out now for my SUV it’s a gas-drinking hog and it’s thirst-y
Petroleum products everywhere, plastic bottles and underwear.

 Chorus

Gold jewelry, diamond rings, steel cars and soda cans.
Concrete highways, asphalt too, electric plants to give us juice.

I jumped a dragline, jumped a chainsaw, jumped a John Deere, ran into a smoke stack

 Chorus
 

We’re All Gonna Die
Van Wagner and Brian Crane
March 21-04

Some kick the bucket, some up and die.
Some a blaze of glory, some just go quite.
Some buy the farm, others rent the ranch.
Some have their lease run out, Some the dead man’s hand.

Look on the bright side
There ain’t no need to cry.
Birth is the cause of death
And We’re all gonna die.

Some in their sleep, others on the road
Some in their hearts, some in their souls.
Cashin’ in their chips, end of the rope.
Some just for kicks, some just a joke.

Chorus

Off to greener pastures, the big round-up in the sky.
Finally bit the bullet, “hell he just died”
Standing by the pearly gates waiting to get in.
When role  is called up yonder, you go first my friend.
 
 
 
 

A young G.I. stands in a valley of green.
Just out of high school with an M-16.
In a country he never heard of until a year before.
Half way around the world, in the Vietnam war.

He lights another Lucky Strike, now a pack or 2 a day.
It’s the only thing he’s found, that keeps his head straight.
Each cigarette he burns, marks a man who’s gone down.
He’s feeling about as empty as the shells on the ground.

 It’s time we tell him he ain’t alone
 It’s time we say welcome home.

At night he hears the mortars and the sound of far off guns.
And the rhythm of his heart, is pounding like a drum
His eyes are playing tricks on him with shadows from the flare.
He fires at the tree line but there’s nobody there.

Now most stay back home far from the war.
While scholars discuss what we’re fighting for.
Both politics and peace are far from him.
The only thing he’s fighting for are the lives of his friends.

Chorus

A young army nurse holds the hand of a marine.
She’s trying to save his life, it’s a daily routine.
The courage she shows just living each day.
Is counted on the hands of the lives she’s saved.

Some are called lucky and make it back home.
But even if they made it there war wasn’t done.
Many got the cancer from our agent orange.
While the country that they fought for just folder it’s arms.

Chorus

It’s far too late for words like right or wrong.
But we’re far overdue, to honor what they’re done.
To all of the veterans, their families, and friends.
I bid you a welcome home to bring your war to and end.

West Virginia, never seen ya
But I feel you in the ground.
Someday maybe one day
I’ll be with you for a sound, I’m coming down.

Blueridge Mountains, I’ve once been through you
Only stopping for someone else.
Now it’s for me, and times the only
Crooked angel in my path, I’m a coming back.

Once she knew me, yeah I could feel it
The spirit inside of myself.
But now I’m lonely, feeling empty
Heading down south once again, I’m a  turning in.

 On and on and on and on we go.
 Time forgotten, not forgotten wheels slow.
 And what makes it all so real,
 Is when we try and fake the feel,
 Come on now get real.

The rainy clouds don’t phase me and the sun don’t bring me down.
The smile that I’m not wearing isn’t like the one you’ve found.
And the emptiness inside me
Is there and unfilled still.
I’m in no hurry
To get over the next hill.

 Life can be so depressing when you’ve got Spain
 Yes, life can be so depressing when you’re got Spain.

Wondering if it’s rolling or if it’s already done.
Wondering when I’m going or if I’m already gone.
I can’t be found in the mirror nor in the group on high.
I’m still not sure if I’ll be near her when I lay down tonight.

 chorus

When I sit and think about the choices that we made.
I think about the river that we both forgot to wade.
And I wonder if our boat could’ve crossed the angry tide
or if it would’ve been tossed up.
I guess we’ll never know since we never really tried.
No more sangria in my cup.

 Chorus

Sometimes I’ll wonder, then again I’ll think again
Why she up and took all I had
If I was her, I’d probably do the same
Cause you can’t keep smiling if you’re sad.

  CHORUS:
  Ain’t nothing cooler than whiskey
  And two bit dancers on my porch swing
  Won’t be too hot if you’ve got whiskey
  Forgetting summer after spring.

Well I can’t take back the years I’ve passed by
Thinking only of what’s to come with time
I’ve got to wonder if she thinks of us again
Cause now I’m leaving to break the rhyme.

  CHORUS

Can she ever see me as I sit out here tonight
Wondering if she’ll find me without the moon’s light
The moon’s not what put us here, but that’s why I’m reaching out
Gotta find who’s gonna take us home

  CHORUS

The Winds of Idaho
Van Wagner Sept 2002

I woke up to the sound of coyotes
And the site of the Sawtooth range.
The smell of sage and sawdust
Idaho in a morning rain.

A logging Camp outside of Stanley
Salmon River between the plains
This ground is hard and dusty
The work is just the same.

   As fall sets in on the Aspen
   The Lodgepole waiting for a snow.
   I can almost feel myself changing
   With the winds of Idaho

We're skidding Fir, we're skidding Lodgepole
We're setting chokers on the bull line.
Every few hours we hit the coffee
It's been steepin on the fire.

That's how it is Pacific logging
Nut no 2 days are the same
Something new in every holler
This land is far from tamed.

   Chorus

Soon the snow will cut our season
And rust will take our chains.
Soon we'll be leaving
Pack up camp, head home again.

But I'll keep a bag of saw dust
For cabin fever setting in
I'll close my eyes and smell the forest
And breath in the Idaho wind.

   chorus
 

Many days come, many days go, many days fade away.
Remembering some, remembering none, holding to yesterday.

The brooks crystal waters the meadows green, your hair in the morning sun
These things I wish, these things I pray were there in everyone.

In each of us lies a soul of gold, and a heart stronger than steel.
Yours might be silver and mine be coal, but it’s how they make you feel.

Folks ain’t the same, down this way
Wish I was back home Susquehanna way.
Grinning like a juke box and spending the whole day,
Trying to remember what I did with yesterday.

 Seems like I always forget
 Something from my past I should regret.
 I don’t know why but I feel so fine
 Thank God for women, words, and wine

What I’d give to be standing in July
Dancing in a rainstorm with my dad outside.
As a kid we'd watch the creak rise
and set said down the mountainside.

Chorus

The 16th of May found it’s way into my life
the days roll past quicker every night.
In a year I’ll be looking back at here,
Hope her reflection is still shining clear.

Chorus

I wish the mines were still running, on the other side of town,
I’d drown myself in labor in a life underground.
There’s something in a miner’s life that’s familiar to me,
For it’s only when I’m underground that my mind is truly free.

 And I’ve sung the song of a miner though I’ve never worked below.
 But the words just come to me, like it’s something that I know.
 Just a borrowed whisper I heard as a kid
 Words of the miners, who worked Montour Ridge.

The House that I was raised in, on top Montour Ridge,
Was built upon a mine drift, through the iron ore within.
I dreamed I heard the miners sing at night, as I would sleep.
Their ghosts still down there digging ore 100 feet deep.

CHORUS

I’ve written many songs now, at age 23
And now I’m wondering if the songs belong true to me,
Or if they were a miners words sung 100 years before,
Whispers of a miner’s life that I’ve borrow from the ore.

CHORUS

Well when my time is ended and my songs are sung no more,
I’ve asked you where to bury me in a song I’ve sung before;
“Down where the mountains melt, and the river flows into the sea.”
Take me to Montour Ridge and sing “The Miner’s Prayer.”

CHORUS

“the miner is gone we’ll see him no more”

There was a time, when the family far, was the way of
life for most
Fresh eggs, homemade pies, hotcakes and toast.
Haying fields, feeding pigs from daylight til dawn
Hard work sure but it put muscles on your arm

Now there aren't as many people living off the land
Only a handful still working with their hands.
We won't make it long if we no longer can
Make it, fix it, grow it,  working with our hands.

Grandparents tell your family about how you worked
the land.
Tell them how in living you've got to use your hands.
It's honest work that keeps you fit, I hope they'll
understand.
That's how it was and how it is you've got to use
your hands.

Now in the fall as a kid we'd split the fallen Oak.
In woodstoves and the fireplace the wood would turn to
smoke.
We'd stack it up between the trees cause dad was quite
a man.
That's how we fought the cold back then, we beat it
with our hands.

Late summer the counters clear mom shaved off the
skins.
Apples, peaches, tomatoes, pears let canning time
begin.
She'd cook them down and sterilize working so hard.
The lid snapped down all winter long we had summer in
a jar.

Chorus

Wouldn’t It Be Nice
Van Wagner
Fall 1996

Wouldn’t it be nice if we all were friends
Wouldn’t it be nice if we all held hands?
Wouldn’t it be nice if we all were friends
Wouldn’t it be nice if we all held hands?
But you know that’s not the way it is.

If you help me I’ll help you too
If you fall down I’ll look at you.
If you get up I’ll shake your hand
and if you stay down, I’ll cover you with sand.
Cause it’s not the rich man’s world no more.

If you come back I’ll be here for you
And if you come back I’ll have him here too.
If you want friends you can bring them too
Cause you’re not alone if there’s two.

If you get hungry I’ll fill your gut.
If you need rest then I’ll sit you on your butt.
If you need a bath I’ll put on the stove.
If you get dirty then I’ll wash your cloths.
Cause there’s no need for blame any more.
Yeah there’s no need for blame any more.

YOU CAN’T DRINK YOUR WAY OUT
Van Wagner and KJ
Feb 2005

I stopped in the pub at the corner
The day was horrendous, I thought
I sat at the seat near the window
And brushed off the tears I had fought

A businessman worked at his Berry
A single mom put lipstick on
I felt more at home with these strangers
Since the love there at home was all gone

(CHORUS)
 You can’t drink your way out
 Can’t drink your way out.
 There’s no bottle big enough
 No glass tall enough.
 You can’t drink your way out.

Then in came a man with a topcoat
His worried face looked into mine
He took up the chair two seats over
And ordered two glasses of wine

I watched as one glass clicked the other
He seemed to be toasting the air
I finally asked what’s the matter
There are the words that he shared

(CHORUS)

(Bridge)
He said life is hard – you often get charred
But success only works if you try
If you grab at loose ends you’re alone in the end
You might as well lay down and die

(INSTRUMENTAL CHORUS)

So I shook his hand and started to stand
There was something I had to decide
I can go back tonight and make it all right
Or hit the highway and ride
(CHORUS)
 

YOU’RE STILL WITH ME
Van Wagner
(August 1998)

If I could have one prayer come true, I’d pray to God for you
Just to see you walk in through those doors would make me feel so new
I try to keep myself from losing my mind by singing some folky tune
But no matter how hard I try, nothing can take the place of you.

  CHORUS:
  Oh but you’re still with me
  I can feel you in the air
  It’s a truth that conceals me
  And lets me know you’re still there.

With a voice as clear as mission bells, she sends a message from the sea
And as the fog rolls in on me, I know she sent it all for me
As I kneel here beneath these trees, and dream myself back to a home
On bald top mountain I dream to be, loneliness so unknown.