Wonders why the deep end’s on the wrong end
and then doesn’t care to care.
He likes it that way.
Anchors must be allowed to breathe.
The night’s on, but nothing’s going on
so he just thinks.
Burroughs on a wall as distant Christmas
loving lingers in the air.
Fall falls and winter springs into our lungs.
Take my mind for a walk ‘til it stops running.
Sing my mind an old song ‘til it stops humming.
It’s not snowing, but the night’s out there glowing
and I can’t stop looking around.
The phone rang, but that wasn’t today
cause it’s been weeks.
Wanders to the wrong end, to the deep end.
Never really seems to care.
Kinda likes it there.
Anchors need to be able to breathe.
It’s just rain. Like time, it goes away.
What really stays?
Those silent nights when calls are like Christmas,
and an anchor’s in the air.
Took my mind for a walk
and couldn’t stop looking around
this is your life chuck johnson 