Harry Chapin (1942 – 1981)
American singer, songwriter, and social activist.
There was not much more for us to talk about,
Whatever we had once was gone.
So I turned my cab into the driveway,
Past the gate and the fine trimmed lawns.
And she said we must get together,
But I knew it'd never be arranged.
And she handed me twenty dollars,
For a two fifty fare, she said
"Harry, keep the change."
Well another man might have been angry,
And another man might have been hurt,
But another man never would have let her go...
I stashed the bill in my shirt.
And we would play together,
like fine musicians should,
And it would sound like music,
and the music would sound good.
But in real life I'm stuck with
that same old formula,
me and my monophonic symphony,
six string orchestra.
Oh God they got you gun shy
You know your skin's as cold as ice
Your eyes are double filtered babe
You're so afraid to be nice
There's no way you're ready
To let your defenses down
Though I won't come on heavy
There is a lesson that I've found.
And if our future
Lies on the final line
Are we brave enough
To see the signals and the signs?
No straight lines make up my life;
And all my roads have bends;
There's no clear-cut beginnings;
And so far no dead-ends.
And the broad who served the whisky
She was a big old friendly girl.
And she tried to fight her empty nights
By smilin' at the world.
Corey's coming, no more sad stories coming
My midnight-moonlight-morning-glory's coming aren't you girl?
And like I told you, when she holds you
She enfolds you in her world.
But there still must be a way to have our children say...
"There are so many colors in the rainbow
So many colors in the morning sun
So many colors in the flower and I see every one." (Live version)
She said I've heard you flying high on my radio
I answered "It's not all it seems"
That's when she laughed and she said, "It's better sometimes
When we don't get to touch our dreams."