Four Leaf clover

Nothing really changes but your moods. The only really ugly thing about you. You love me because I never get blue. I've not felt a thing since the day that I met you. 

You say I'm good enough to get you started off, to be your well-laid path while you're starting over. I must confide that if I had some pride I wouldn't be at your side, your four leaf clover.

You pulled me out from my roots to be around anytime it suits you. You say I'm your lucky charm. When you're all wound up, only I can make you calm.

And it's just like you said to me, "Life it comes and goes. Love ebbs and flows. So close your eyes and try to think of prettier things."

And I know I can't complain. I could leave anytime and just face the pain. But I'm a sucker for a pretty face. Mother always said I had good taste.

I'm Out of here

I stayed too long. I got my mind made up. I've got my friends. Give me my shoes, and hand over my keys. I'm gonna burst that door.

It took a while but now I understand there are no walls on a home, and nothing sticks unless I let it stick, except the flesh on my bones. I haven't been clear. I'm out of here.

She said, "Love ain't easy at all. You have to work every day," but it's a fool who keeps on punching that clock if he doesn't get paid.

We put down roots and just got covered in moss. It's a crying shame. We should have been like two rolling stones, rolling the same way.

The road to anhedonia

On the road to Anhedonia. Thanks for packing up my things. It's a lousy town, but it's like I told you, it's a wonder I can walk at all.

And you wrote, "Babe, ever since you went away, I can't believe what I'm getting done. I'm just so happy we're both so happy now."

On the road to Anhedonia. Don't know what I'll do when I arrive. Unpack my things. Do some laundry. Lucky to be alive.

And you wrote, "Babe, every since you went away, I feel just like a little girl. I'm just so happy we're both so happy now."

And I know I should write, but for the pang in my heart and the tear in my eye, I reply, "Oh my love, my own true love, oh no...."

I'd not noticed the moon over the garden at night. There's a fox near the gate, half out of the light. It's been a while since my mind met a thought with a thought. It's not something I learned. It's not something she taught. I guess I felt at home, eager to please, and able to mark out the edges of everything, but now those edges are gone.

I said fence me in, not that I'd try to leave, but there are things past that hill that I don't want to see. So I got into bed to awake when I am old. To stay out of the heat. To stay out of the cold. Guess I felt at home, down on my knees, and able to mark out the edges of everything, but now those edges are gone.

But it's good to see the moon. It's brighter than I recall, but then everything is, now that I'm seeing it all.

The fox in the garden

I guess it's something new, and a little clearer now you're out of view. But trying to see past you is something that I never thought I'd do.

I guess it's one more time around. We wound up right back where we started from. Though I miss you, I know we can't go back. So, I miss you, and let's just leave it at that.

We've been going around in rings, never really learning anything. Just one more ring on that dying tree on every anniversary.

I don't know why we both just played along. The only thing that mattered was to keep things ticking on. We passed the time by talking about how good it was going to get. I've got to say, it wasn't bad, but not much better than okay.

I wonder who'll be next? Someone I know? Someone I haven't met? Will she do things you'd never do? Will she just remind me of you?


I used to jest that if you left I'd finally write that book, play piano, go to night school, maybe learn to cook, trade in my t-shirts for some dress shirts for a brand new look, paint my masterpiece sublime. But so far the other thing I've done is get sleepy drinking whisky with the TV on. It's more like bedlam than a bedroom, but I can't clean it drunk, and there's no-one here who minds.

Guess I'll wait for the time when my mind's on stonier ground.

Sometimes I feel like it's all running down, like I'd have to fall headfirst to turn my frown around, but falling's just like flying until you hit the ground, and the ground is nowhere near. So while I sit here with my cigarettes, partly choking from the smoking, partly from regret, just respect that I'm not a wreck yet, I'm just a mess, and messes get cleaned up.

I'm happy here in bed right now, but soon I'll want more because I'm getting sore. One thing that I know for sure: I'm strong enough to sleep this off.

After years of knowing what comes next, I've got absolutely no idea what to expect. But just relax, man. Take a bath, and count my one success: the time I'm wasting, it's all mine. 

Stonier ground

I know you won't believe me when I say this is brand new. You'll say I wasn't born this morning, but that's not exactly true. The past's been preparation for what we're about to do. So if it's alright with you, love, I'll try to muddle through, love. I hope that that'll do. It's all I ask.

I have never slept so well, or had such lovely dreams. This morning there were colours such as I've never seen. If you're as shocked as I am, take all the time you need. Because it's alright with me, love. Be just how you'll be, love. Just make some time for me, that's all I ask.

I'm not saying that you saved me. Let's leave the saving up to God. I learned the things I needed long before you came along. But I'm glad I'm holding your hand as life keeps rolling on. Because it's alright with me, love. Be just how you'll be, love. Just make some time for me, that's all I ask. And if it's alright with you, love, I'll try to muddle through, love. I hope that that'll do. It's all I ask.

All I ask

The road is long, but I know a shortcut, but you might have to dirty your shoes. I know you'd prefer your way, but that route'll take all day, and we've both got better things to do. 

And you always wear the whitest shoes. Well, it's one of the nicest things about you, but it's time to take your eyes off the street, and get a little mud upon your feet.

You're such a good girl, and if I could girl, I'd carry you all of the way. But the path you're afraid of really ain't that rough, and you'd look just as pretty in grey.

THe whitest shoes

Downtown epilogue

Because I knew I couldn't stay, I burst that door and walked away, now lighter and on my way. The sun, gold as a coronet. The taxi hum, a string quartet. The music, no sorrow or regret. Then I saw you downtown that night.

Among the endless market stalls. The busy, winding streets of Montreal. So much noise, much like no noise at all. An open sky. And then I saw you downtown that night.