Photographs

from by The River Has Many Voices

/

lyrics

well i don’t know what happened
but with a flashing
i saw you there standing back leaned on the glass and
i felt like i was flying
you turned right to me
and smiled with your eyes the way snow falls in silence
and i reached out but all i could touch was a photograph

and man how i’ve missed her
i approached her, i kissed her
i asked her how she’s been since she passed that winter
she spoke like the living
and looked right into me
and in her own way tried to reassure me
and i reached out but all i could touch was a photograph

and i remember that cabin
that fire and those aspens
nightfall could not blacken the blue eyes she had then
and slowly at morning
the slant sun on the flooring
would stir me to waken and since you always woke before me
the first thing i’d see was our wedding photograph

and there like a vision
i saw you in the kitchen
making cinnamon rolls for both of our children
a Saturday morning, i stood there yawning
you called to Sophie and Warren: “come on and get ‘em”
and i reached out but all i could touch was a photograph

and the waters rise…
and the waters rise…
and the waters rise…
they don’t look back

and just like a memory
i was back with her near me
she wrote on my hand: “with love from Leah”
and i went off to work
she called me that evening
with news from the doctor i refused to believe in
after months by her bedside
her hands growing weaker
i prayed for an angel to please let me keep her
and i reached out but all i could touch was a photograph

i packed up our things
all of your belongings
and put your ring on a string so i could always wear it on me
the house now empty
i stood by the door
with albums of memories you made for safe keeping
and all i have left now are just those photographs
all i have left now are just photographs

and the waters rise…
and the waters rise…
and the waters rise…
they don’t look back

credits

from Ash St., released September 28, 2016

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The River Has Many Voices Austin, Texas

The River Has Many Voices is music that is born of the poetry and harmony of the hill country. TRHMV lives and writes in Austin, TX where he grew up.

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