some stalks grow high and green to rot away

the end of november. a rather tumultuous month. difficulty endures. but so do i, i guess. i'm still here, anyway. and in the end, well, maybe things got a little better. at least the path finally received some clarity. or, maybe it's finding its own way. and i was finally able to trust it. either way. doing my best. when i get to the end--and i know that i will--i'll just want to be able to say: i got wise and i got old. but not once, not once did i fold.

blind pilot : "new york"
from the lp we are the tide (expunged records, 2011)

i hear the train all night
sound of its wind blowing through
our subtle lives

and i have a job to do
walking these cars
walking all this sleep
to get to you

but i don't feel you stir beside me
and you're not in my morning hours
some ties are made to break
some stalks grow high and green to rot away
and feel the weight

and these lines tell a truth
these city veins answer all we do
so, could you keep me in the pulses
could you keep me in the sound

i got wise and i got old
not once, not once did i fold
so don't you now

maybe you bet on me
while we were still young enough to know
what to believe

but for every year you took
for every soft breath or loving look
believe me

and don't keep me like you have me
and don't kiss me like you don't

i got wise and i got old
not once, not once did i fold
so don't you now

some land holds a home
some of my years only hold me to roam
but i tell myself it's true
you see a home, you see a man
you see it too
and i say, "don't you know you have her?
go on kiss her now you boy"

i got wise and i got old
not once, not once did i fold
so don't you now