from The Day After Everything Changed
There's a golden moon rising in the fields
A scarecrow highway…a back road
I'm lost, on empty….hungry for a meal
And the taste of a day not wasted
When I'm down
I let my wheels roll around
I come running to you
And I roll my windows down
(Chorus)
Would you like to know how it feels
To trade your wings in on some wheels
I've got the keys, let's take a ride
Stick your hand out the passenger side
Down the river road
Clear water flows
Down on the river road
It's where I wanna go
Down the river road
A moth in a porchlight…a red-curtained windowpane
Your eyes in the screen door…
They tell me all I need to know
You step out in the night air
And call me by my name
A cricket's cry…no alibis
Come run with me
Let's step out
We'll let the wheels roll around
I'll come running to you
And I'll roll my windows down
(Repeat chorus)
The river road….the river road…..the river road
Alrighty then. I do not have the talents or insights of most of the "analysts" who comment here, so I've had quite a bit of trepidation about this assignment. I do not have much in the way of discussion or analysis for these lyrics; I am simply sharing the images and memories this song has consistently evoked for me.
Until now, these have historically been my all-time favorite Ellis Paul lyrics:
Down in Houston on comes this woman with two kids and a bottle of booze,
And she cracked them both like match heads whenever they ventured too close to her fuse. (3000 miles)
My goodness, an entire biography in a single sentence. Brilliant. However, these lines have been eeking out a slight lead in my favorite lyrics psyche:
I'm lost, on empty….hungry for a meal
And the taste of a day not wasted
For me, the first verse takes me back in time to Margret's kitchen, in an old house in Claremont, New Hampshire, just at the apex where Pleasant Street splits...this song takes me through the always cold garage, onto the enclosed dusty/musty hallway with a porch on one side, and a lonely bedroom on the other, straight into my grandmother's kitchen...
Mmm, her kitchen was always filled with delicious smells. I recall that often my dad and I would end up there on a Saturday or a Sunday, after an early hike up Mt. Ascutney, just across the Connecticut River. I recall that we not infrequently ran down the mountain in order to make it in time for lunch (I come by my love of trail running quite honestly).
As a little girl, I would claim the little step stool at the back of the kitchen, next to the washing machine and listen to my grandmother's conversations as she bustled around the tiniest kitchen you can imagine, producing the most amazing feasts with the simplest of foods. In the summer, the back window was always open, and a soft breeze always seemed to be gently flowing...
I always felt well nourished at my grandmother's house, physically and emotionally...those days, the days that included visits there were never wasted.
Hmm. Not an analysis, just a glimpse of the memories that overtake me every time I hear this song.