“It’s often said that life is strange, oh yes, but compared to what?”
. . . a line that Steve Forbert has gotten a lot of mileage from.
A song about friends, being young, wild and carefree.
A song about going home.
A song about this week, forty years ago.
Note: If you are so inclined, Steve could use our prayers as he is going through what appears to be a serious medical challenge.
January 23-30, 1978
Plane comes down on the old runway, home again for a week I’ll stay
Hanging out like I used to do, hope to find some old friends I knew
Hear the news in the honky tonk, who got married, yes, and who split up
Drinking beer while the jukebox plays, brand new songs for brand new days
Quiet nights and empty streets, sleepy town, humble home
Same old waltz in the wind, by the railroad track
Riding out to a country bridge, moonlight shining across the ridge
Frozen trees neath a billion stars, 7 friends jammed in Robby’s car
High as kites and wild and gone, drunk as well and laughing loud
Back at home I say good night and I close the door
Sunday morning the church bell rings, the organ plays and the choir
sings. Where am I while the preacher speaks? Dreaming dreams neath
my sheets asleep
Waking up and trying to think, what went down, what’d we do? I rub
my eyes and I shake my head and feel the sun
Plane takes off on the old runway, snow fell light on the ground
today Lost an hour that I gained before, headed back to my New York
door. fare thee well, adios, adieu and best of luck to all of you I
ain’t no saint and I don’t pretend to be, but I hope you all found a
friend in me.
City lights blink and shine, down below, let it change
It’s often said that life is strange, oh yes, but compared to what?