My Search

I don’t remember whether I began writing this song in England or in New York, but I do remember that somewhere along the line I felt it to be a tribute to Mike Heron, my early inspiration in all things music and spirit.

Looking back I also see that this is one of those songs (and there are quite a few in my oeuvre) that more or less wrote itself, pressing my voice and fingers into willing service.

And I still wonder today whether the heart of song is not where all true and virtuous poets end up when they die.

My Search I don't remember whether I began writing this song in England or in New York, but I do remember that somewhere along the line I felt it to be a tribute to Mike Heron, my early inspiration in all things music and spirit.

The Words:

By dream and sorrow
by tale and night
I sought the morning
looking all the while
for a ray of light

With but a notion
of space and time
'cross starlit waters
looking all the while
for a friend of mine

Times I felt like lying down
end my search with nothing to show
but then I would rise
with the need to know

Dark, misty waters
and storms that try
to keep a secret
hidden very well
in days gone by

My bow is broken
my sails are torn
my ship is sinking
sailing, as I die
to the heart of song

Here my friends are gathered
we came from nowhere, with nowhere to go
and here I can rest
for now I know

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