Early one morning I was pulled outside,
By the smell of the new on the breeze.
No more waiting, I’ve seen all there is,
All but what I glimpsed cross the sea.
I saw a place we called home.
I saw a garden and a door.
I saw a love, and a window lit up.
And I’ve never felt quite so sure.
But the breakers hit hard on the shore
It’s a cold way to sink, float, to swim.
What a cruel thing to ask of a man,
To fall, eyes forward, straight in.
I saw a broken parade,
Of all the things we didn’t do.
Half a world shook in all of a heart
And the best half was you.
But there’s some sort of faith in the tides.
The sea change, the ebb and the flow.
If love is wide eyes with a hand on the oar,
Then the best way to see is to go.
I saw a place we called home.
I saw a child with your hair.
I saw a love, and a window lit up.
And the tide takes us there.
Only time takes us there.
All the time you were here.
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