I wrote the first pass of this song in the back yard of a tiny house in Georgia, then the closing lines in a larger house in Virginia. It captures a mood in a way I don't think I've ever managed before.
lyrics
So you’d count it in the leaves,
All the things that you believed
They were the first ones to go.
And you’d count it in the woods
Though they’re gone not gone for good
You’ll be the first one to know.
You didn’t plan this,
You didn’t ask for this at all.
Your mother’s secrets
Found in spaces in the walls,
And under floors.
Then you say you’re getting scared,
So I’ll sit and stroke you hair,
Till the world seems less small.
Trees are flying above our head,
Teach us well how to be dead
Let’s be buried in the fall.
You didn’t plan this,
You didn’t ask for this at all.
Your mother’s secrets
Found in spaces in the walls,
And under floors.
All these Georgia roads are grey,
Southern hurts don’t go away
And there’s so much empty sky
So you’ll count it in the leaves
Things that said they’d never leave
Always go, don’t ask me why.
You didn’t plan this,
You didn’t ask for this at all.
Your mother’s secrets
Found in spaces in the wall
Southern roads lead to Virginia,
Find another way to begin your life.
A look back at the late Bert Jansch's 1985 classic, "From The Outside," an album that bridges the gap between his native Scotland and the Americana his music invokes. Bandcamp Album of the Day Jun 14, 2016