I was reading Irving Berlin's 9 rules for song writers, and one was that the song should have a "heart-longing". So that inspried this effort.
I long to be cycling up a mountain pass A mountain goat on the cliff, a lake like glass A foaming river on my left, cascading down the height Indian paintbrush in a meadow, snowy peaks on my right. And I couldn’t go wrong If I had Dad along The way he used to be Explaining the landforms to me. Mother and brothers would pedal too We’d crest the pass to a panoramic view of mountains and valleys and a wide blue ocean Elegant towns, freight trains in motion. Once the road was narrow, but the future was wide Every pass a stepping stone, every mile sanctified We ventured without thinking what it cost or meant Some stops to regroup, but hope fueled our ascent. I long to be cycling up that mountain pass But freedom like that now lives in the past Can’t do it anymore—so many restraints Maybe in an afterlife we’ll ride with the saints. Back to the mountain, just a metaphor We go our own ways, life closes the door. If you take the wrong path, hard to get on track. Can't tell the clock to turn itself back.
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