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The Fog sunk a hook in my name
Saying, "Son so dim, O, son of shame
Your hands held her blur, but now you hold a broken comb,"
So I cut the line and raced on home

But there was a man shooting holes in the sky
With a crooked grin he came, addressed me with a sigh
And, "No," I said, laughing,
"I've got a better place to be,"
My dishonest smile turned with the key
Maybe the Pearly Gates will open up for me

But I know, I know the salt and sand will guide me on home
But the lights from the side distract from what I should have seen;
They hold my glass eyes for all to see

The Fog now must watch and append
To see the leaving of lovers, the farewell from friends
The fireworks set off as the car pulls in
"Welcome home, son, now I see what has been:
Your clouded eyes, their film of young sin."

My dreams are howling up high
From the attic and I'll have no place left to lie
From the gleam in my windshield I'm reminded by the moon
That I left then and I'll leave again soon

But I know, I know the salt and sand will guide me on home
While the lights from the door run across the yard to take me in
Then I'll float up the stairs as a ghost
Then I'll rest my eyes and rest my troubled head
And when I die I'll be mourned and not missed


from But from this Endless End, released June 30, 2012


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Timothy Jackson Scott Milford, New Hampshire

Folksinger/songwriter from Milford, NH.

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