Description

One-Stop, Singer Songwriter, Fast tempo, sparse, minimal, simple, summer, organic, warm, folk, folky, roots, americana, story telling, personal, introspective, intimate, light, nostalgic, good memories, good old days, feel good, hopeful, love, relationships, indie folk, Male vocals, acoustic guitar, slide guitar, electric guitar, Chattanooga, Tennessee, United States

Lyrics

On the weekends you would call, from a payphone on the wall, tell your folks back home what's new At a campfire in the trees, I would play guitar and sing, lyrics act as subtle clues She'd pick up on some words, or maybe know a verse, but I'm sure that wasn't all she knew See this was not the kind of love, that was careful or discussed, like cigarettes it killed me slow But I'd lie awake at night, just to see your cabin light, in hopes you might disturb the glow. We would meet eyes by the lake, or while the kids all ran and played, but I always wished we were alone Well my wish became the truth, on a Friday in late June, when we crossed paths on a midnight stroll But my weakness and my strength, it let you walk away, and pass on by with just, "hello" When I saw you in the dawn, with the clothes that you had on, under the moon the night before You looked up from your plate, your tired frozen gaze, met with mine and found some warmth. On the night of July 4th, we watched fireworks from the porch, you took my hand just standing there You leaned into my ear, so that no one else would hear, "I'd let you take me anywhere." We snuck off to a boat, that was tied down with a rope, you kissed me on the captain's chair We decided on that night, when she flickered her porch light, then we'd meet down by the dock I said, "Marie are you in love?" She said, "as much as anyone." And still that answer has me lost. July was fleeting fast, but was filled with unsurpassed, rendezvouses with my Marie One night we stole some oars, and rowed away from shore, we sat and stared down at our feet The question came back up I said, “Marie are you in love?" She said, "If time will let me, I will be." But the last night of July, crashed on us like the tide, and the water rocked and waved farewell I held her to my chest, one last time before we left, but that goodbye it hurt like Hell. The summer moon it wanes, and soon the leaves will change, and I head back to school next week But it just don't seem right, I won't see your cabin light, when I take my tired bones to sleep Packing up my car, is like writing a memoir, of things that remind me of Marie I pull away from camp, and find the exit ramp, return to life I'd known in May Marie your summer trance, I wouldn't call romance, but those nights I'd never trade away