I used to sing. Years ago. But when I decided to have kids, I willingly gave it up. I wanted to be home with my girls. But I missed it. So sometimes I’d get the kids settled down (nap time, color time, Sesame Street) and I would go into my room, close the door and pull out the guitar.
The lyrics I wrote are in some notebook or another. The music is only in my head. I used to have a tape but it disappeared long ago.
Tonight, a cold wind is blowing outside. I hear it tossing the chimes around.
And I am singing one of my songs called The Storm.
The wind is only part of what’s bringing it up. Tonight, there is someone on my mind, someone who made me think of it.
The wind is blowing, sky’s turning black.
Now that it’s coming, no turning back.
You said you’d ride on the wings of the storm tonight
Wanna fly so high
Better hold on tight.
While others run for shelter and candlelight, you’re gonna ride on the wings of the storm.
I’m a watcher.
Got a front row seat.
I don’t wanna get burned.
I just want to feel the heat.
And I have never been able to understand, how you can stand there and dare your life to end.
How can you burn your candle at both ends?
How can you ride on the wings of the storm?
Are you a seeker, just in it for the thrill?
Or are the watchers closing in for the kill?
Is it just for the excitement or is it that you feel like you’ve gotta keep doing what they expect you to do?
You knew it wouldn’t be easy living in others’ view.
About as easy as riding a storm.
About as easy as riding the storm.
This one’s for you. And maybe it was for you way back when I wrote it. Who knows.