Come hold me now
I am not gone
I would not leave you here alone
In this dead calm beneath the waves
I can still hear those lost boys calling
You could not speak
You were afraid
To take the risk of being left again
And so you tipped your hat and waved and then
You turned back up the gangway of that steel tomb again
And in Mott street in July
When I hear those seabirds cry
I hold the child
The child in the man
The child that we leave behind
And in Mott street in July
When I hear those seabirds cry
I hold the child
The child in the man
The child that we leave behind
The spotlight fades
The boys disband
The final notes lie mute upon the sand
And in the silence of the grave
I can still hear those lost boys calling
We left them there
When they were young
The men were gone until the west was won
And now there’s nothing left but time to kill
You never took us fishin’ dad and now you never will
And in Mott street in July
When I hear the seabirds cry
I hold the child
The child in the man
The child that we leave behind
some say love it is a river
that drowns the tender reed.
some say love it is a razor
that leaves your soul to bleed.
some say love it is a hunger
an endless aching need.
i say love it is a flower
and you it’s only seed.
it’s the heart afraid of breaking
that never learns to dance.
it’s the dream afraid of waking
that never takes the chance.
it’s the one who won’t be taken
who cannot seem to give,
and the soul afraid of dyin’
that never learns to live.
when the night has been too lonely
and the road has been too long,
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong,
just remember in the winter
far beneath the bitter snows
lies the seed that with the sun’s love
in the spring becomes the rose.