tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50260093032680753972024-03-14T00:58:01.095-07:00lyricsBryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429032012199416324noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5026009303268075397.post-39637025775319832312012-08-31T12:35:00.003-07:002012-08-31T12:43:31.853-07:00lyrics and background for somewhere in between<span style="font-weight:bold;">1. open road<br /></span><br />The idea for this song came during a late afternoon drive. An open road can be exciting and intimidating.<br /> <br /><span style="font-style:italic;">It feels a lot like drowning I’m told. The evening falls and the shadows grow<br />The angry sky is about to explode. It feels a lot like drowning I’m told<br />Oh . . . . The open road<br /><br />Spirits dance across my radio. It’s hard to tell if I’m coming or going<br />To tell the truth, I’ve never really known. Spirits dance across my radio<br />Oh . . . . The open road Oh . . . . the open road<br /><br />I drive away into another big mistake. Am I a renaissance or just a fool escaping?<br />I’m addicted to the thrill of the thought of leaving home for this open road<br /><br />I’m breaking down and I’m breaking up. What I’ve got ain’t never enough<br />A thousand miles from what I want. I’m breaking down and breaking up<br />Oh . . . . the open road Oh . . . . the open road<br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">2. Restless<br /></span><br />A song about wanting to be many places at the same time.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The snow is melting; I know what it means. Soon we’ll see a new green rising from the fields<br />I’ve been around awhile and it’s been around me. <br />Been around for long enough to know it’s time to leave<br /><br />I owe my heart to this river. I throw my eyes to the sea.<br />Most my life I’ve been living somewhere in between <br />There’s nothing wrong with Ohio. I’m just restless<br /><br />The mountains disappear around 5 am. Can’t say I don’t love it here, but I’m wandering again.<br />They whisper my name and say, “Son, where you been”<br />All the time in the world, the stories I’ve heard could never bury all of my sin. <br /><br />I can’t sleep tonight. I can’t win this fight<br />If I go, I lose home; If I stay I don’t know what I’ll find on the other side<br />I can’t sleep tonight</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">3. we’re all right</span><br /><br />A love song about always seeking adventure.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Let’s build us a life out of sunshine and asphalt. Stay on the run and never get caught<br />Let’s fall asleep by the light of the stars. The road may be theirs but the evening is ours<br /><br />Cinnamon, cigarettes, a saltwater breeze. Sunsets make silhouettes of only palm trees<br />No regrets, never rest and oh I believe . . . we’re all right <br /><br />We’ll let the mist from the ocean baptize our bones, find us an interstate and call it our own<br />Oh it’s fine for now; in the morning we’re gone. It’s over we’re sober; it’s time to move on<br /><br />There’s a hill in the distance outlined in red, ditch this old clumsy car and start walking again<br />Worries behind and my dreams ahead. La da ti da . . . we’re moving ahead<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">4. matador</span><br /><br />A song based on Hemingway’s short story, The capital of the world, which depicts the lives of bullfighters in Spain and a young boy, Paco, who dreams of becoming a matador. Paco’s dream is mocked by a friend who claims fear would prohibit a country boy from succeeding in a bull ring. The friend states, “If it wasn’t for fear, every bootblack in Spain would be a bullfighter.” In an effort to prove he is not afraid, Paco engages in a mock bullfight with his friend using a chair and knives to play the part of the bull. Paco is killed by the knives when the game gets out of hand, but he never relinquishes his nobility. The song honors bullfighters who remain fearless and noble in a time when the art of bullfighting has lost some of its charm. And, it reflects how much can be achieved when there is an absence of fear. <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Broken bottles and cigarettes. Despite the threats they ain’t torn it down yet<br />Hail, hail, hail the matador<br />If we weren’t afraid maybe we’d be kings. They ‘d call our names as we stand in the ring<br />Hail, hail, hail the matador<br /><br />To the capital of the world. We’ll steal away my girl and I <br />And pay our respects to the matador.<br /><br />Breaking hearts and doing all right with those Spanish girls in the middle of the night<br />Rest assured he’ll be ready for a fight come the afternoon<br />It’s raining roses in the summer sun. We’ll join the choir and sing to the one<br />Who could save us all from what we’ve done, not a moment to soon<br /><br />Broke and lonely, we could do a lot worse. Until this fever has run its course<br />We’re free to yell for more<br />Come on boys bring in those nets. Tell me haven’t you heard they ain’t torn it down yet<br />Hail, hail, hail the matador<br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">5. I want to fall</span><br /><br />This song was written after having the opportunity to return to Costa Rica, where we had lived for two years, for a week-long trip. The trip was great, but I realized that something was missing. Real life. Life is up and down. Winning and losing. Standing and falling. We need the falling to know that we are really living. <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I’m no tourist here to spend the week <br />Don’t put me up in no hotel down by the beach<br />I want to come home exhausted and just fall asleep<br />On the couch in my apartment down the street<br /><br />Don’t take my picture next to that dark skinned girl<br />To hang on your refrigerator on the other side of the world<br />Nothing so beautiful and nothing so clean <br />Have I ever seen<br /><br />Oh . . . I want to fall Oh . . . I want to feel<br />Oh . . . I would trade it all Oh . . . to make it real<br /><br />Sunburn and blisters, jealousy and doubt<br />Let me know rejection I could never figure out<br />Let’s take the long road and not turn around<br />We’re gonna be here for a while; we’re gonna be here for a while<br /><br />I don’t need no souvenirs to remind me of the years</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">6. Blank page</span><br /><br />A song for my daughter. My desire for her is that she not be content to fit in the mold others make for her, but rather that she look at the world as a place to be creative and original. The song is as much an autobiography as it is a lesson. <br /><br />When you find yourself in over your head<br />And you forget the words that your mom and I said<br />When you realize you don’t fit in<br />And you find yourself in over your head<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">When you go chasing dreams from the corner of your eye<br />And you break your heart a hundred times<br />But you don’t slow down and you don’t know why<br />You go chasing dreams from the corner of your eye<br /><br />When you see this big old world as nothing but a blank page<br />You’ll know that you’re my girl and you’ll be okay<br />When there’s nothing quite so beautiful as the songs along the way<br />You’re my girl; you’ll be okay<br /><br />When the neighborhood just don’t understand<br />That you can’t keep up but you don’t give a damn<br />About the car in the garage or the line in the sand<br />The neighborhood just won’t understand<br /><br />This spirit you inherit, may you wear it like your smile<br />And carry it forever with the wonder of a child<br /><br />When this life is hard but not hard enough<br />To convince you that you’ll ever grow up<br />When your mind is free and your heart stays young<br />And this life is hard but not hard enough<br /></span><br /><br />Bryanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00429032012199416324noreply@blogger.com0