Tunnels

Written by: Josiah Letchworth

 

The pilgrim finally unfolds a suitcase full of sand

He’s emptied from his hourglass too soon to understand.

And he pours it on some foreign beach, his broken promise land

And goes looking for the August One again.

 

An army of deserters on the outskirts of town

Have decided they might like a few commands handed down.

So they go roamin’ through the wilderness like a pack of scent hounds

On the trail where the August One went down.

 

All the prophets marchin’ in the name of all that’s true

Stop at a gated neighborhood with no way of breakin’ through.

With numbers on their side there’s still nothin’ they can do,

But look for the August One on another route.

 

The park bench politicians repeat yesterday’s debate

Over a game of chess played to the usual stalemate.

Until the queens have been long dead and kings have fled the state,

There’s nothing for the August One to say.

 

The shadow of a thought, I’ve cast in ink across a line

Just to come a little closer to what no words could define.

As I reach into the emptiness of a hollow phrase, I find

That it’s a tomb without a body. The stones been rolled aside,

And now waiting in the wings behind the curtains and the light,

The August one has vanished from the stage of time.

We were drivin’ through the tunnel, both holdin’ our breaths

When I took mine first to say that wasn’t all that I had left.

But there’s nothin’ more to wish for than to be here by your side.

And I waited for an answer while you waited for the light.

 

You heard what I said.

I did not try to keep it in.

It could have been a waste of breath,

But now I’m holdin’ it again.

 

With your hands coverin’ up your mouth and both mine on the wheel,

We were drivin’ through the tunnel wonderin’ how that light would feel.

So I thought about the mountains and where all the rivers led

And the scenery I hoped we could be pointin’ out ahead.

 

You heard what I said.

I did not try to keep it in.

It could have been a waste of breath,

But now I’m holdin’ it again.

 

Takes one stone to kill Goliath, one stone to kill two birds.

And if you want to turn this only stone to bread, it takes one word.

And you can give him that word if you want to, or you can tell me which way to throw.

Or you can say we had the same wish. Or you can keep wishin’ on your own,

But it’s a long way to haven and a longer way to home.

And there’s no reason to wait unless you’re holdin’ your breath

For one more stone.