BY Richard Morgan
If it should happen like this:
That one day you are gone
And I myself still hanging on,
I will break down in tears
When I hear the news
I will be listening one more time
To your ragged song.
I will sing lightly, gliding on
The thunder echoes of your voice
Not diluting your expression
Nor can I forget a word.
Minstrel horsemen mount and ride
Valley descants, rising hills
As steel rails hum, we sing along
To hard-time working blues.
Lonesome rider for so long
But I will never come to know
The weight and daily burdens that you raise.
And if one day you will be gone
And I’m still standing in the rain
I will not claim to know you, nor say to anyone
That I saw you in the distance
Reaching out to recreate
The delicacy of your song on stage.
But for myself I take the stand
And trust with all my certainty
To recognize the hum of rails
Vibrations of approaching trains,
The metal wheels that churned your mind
Intoning their redemptive sighs of pain.
And I will harmonize with them
While I remember, just as long
As I am standing by your tracks –
If ever you are gone.
