I wore out the sweater that you gave me the winter after you left.
I worked in it, I slept in it, I walked in it. Until it dissolved into tattering thread.
I guess I never got over the way I felt with it on. I could feel your arms on me, wrapped around the wool, pressing against my skin.
(Goodbye, lovely one, maybe one day we will fly away. Goodbye, lovely one, maybe one day we will fly away, away, away.)
Some nights I’d wake up in the dark and smell you in the colors and in the center of it, holding me like you did in December before you left.
And I’d wait in the darkness, holding my breath, hoping you’d appear. A hovering apparition, a tortured vision of the love I’d lost.
(Goodbye, lovely one, maybe one day we will fly away. Goodbye, lovely one, maybe one day we will fly away, away, away.)
How many nights did I sit and watch the ice melt in my glass, slowly disappearing and dissolving until I drank it down. Absorbing the alcohol into my skin, wondering where you were and what you were doing.
A 1952 motel taken over by musicians in 2007 for the purpose of creating and hosting collaborative songwriting events, The Holiday Music Motel is the world's only motel with its own internet radio station that plays 100% self-generated content 24/7.
Soulful guitar interplay form the heart of this lovely Americana collaboration from Dave Alvin and Jimmie Dale Gilmore. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 2, 2018
Tom Heyman documents life in San Francisco circa 2023, refusing to succumb to easy characterization & instead capturing the city’s nuance. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 22, 2023
The slashing roots rock on “Out On the Line” always makes its way to the kind of triumphant chorus that quickens the pulse. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 2, 2023