From the recording Way Things Used To Be
Try as we might, no matter how well adjusted we are or how much progress we think we’ve made, being creations molded by our experiences opens us up to uncomfortable feelings or uninvited memories and dreams when we sometimes least expect or desire it. Sights, smells, sounds . . . any number of stimuli can trigger memories or dreams we’d just as soon forego.
For those who ascribe to such, it may be the head-shrinker’s province to assign meaning and interpretation if the need to understand is that urgent. Some people are tormented to the point of being damaged. For the rest of us, some will accept it, ignore it and move on; others may philosophize it and file it away; a few will perhaps put pen to paper . . . in the vain hope that those we love might one day gain some insight into our struggle.
Way Things Used To Be
( R. P. Maddox © - 2014 )
Try to put the pen to paper but the words won't flow
Sometimes the mind will take you where the heart won't go
Melody so soft and low . . .
Ridin' on a candle's glow
Hard times memory . . . lost in a reverie . . . way things used to be
Images and memories that assault your sleep
Hide out in the baggage that we're forced to keep
Loving touch . . . a baby's cry . . .
Still you don't know why
Small town fantasy . . . lost in a reverie . . . way things used to be
She made you feel like you just weren't enough
Though you did your best when things got tough
And you didn't know what else to do - except stick to the plan
She couldn't see the implications
'Til it wiped away the whole foundation
Cast away with nowhere left to stand . . . no place left to go . . .
In ways they'll never know
Tried to get your thoughts in order but the words won't come
The trick is not to show it when your heart goes numb
The costs of healing don't come cheap . . .
When the cut's so deep
Hard luck fantasy . . . locked up misery . . . way things used to be
Small town memory . . . lost in a reverie . . . way things used to be