Love is Real
Written on my 29th birthday at a friend’s lake house in western Georgia: an anniversary getaway. For reasons of generosity, Danielle agreed to let me bring my guitar along and, since we weren’t allowing ourselves to watch TV (except for the LSU football game), I devoted some time to reading, photography, sitting, staring blankly, and observing outdoors on the dock. I also managed to write two little gems that weekend, this particular one on Oct. 3, 2001 (11 pm – 12:30 am).
I had been reading Flannery O’Connor at the time and, while finishing "A Good Man is Hard to Find", began reading "The Spectator Bird" (W. Stegner) that same weekend.
It is a song that presented itself to me without provocation. It bore no teeth and put up no fight. Its creation was a chance encounter with “inspiration”, if that’s the right word. I write very few songs this rapidly and even fewer in a single, short sitting. Though I do love it when they’re born this way - the wind at my back, a brimming, clear sky, the timing is perfect - I’ve always felt that the best songs were written in a monumental hour or two of uninhibited and unrestrained overflowing.
(EABEBE)
better clean out my pockets
better check my shoes
gotta handful of heartache
and a hole in my blues
a little rest for the weary
a little sleep for my eyes
I've been trying hard
just to keep our dream alive
always is better.....
love is real
love is on the other side
love is real
love comes from the inside
love is real
love looks for what is lost
love is real
love tears down these walls
if wishes were water
I should've wished like a saint
like an S.O.S. call
that's ever so faint
if the answers are easy
then the questions must be wrong
i'm 'bout out of luck
tired of drawing these straws
always is better, always is best.....
love is real
love is on the other side
love is real
love comes from the inside
love is real
love looks for what is lost
love is real
love tears down these walls
that stand so tall we built to stay
but I would not have it any other way