An ode to misspent youth.
Doug Hammer, Piano; FJ Ventre, Bass
...And on your way to Revendon
A barefoot girl in calico asks you to go
Share the forest with her, one and lonely.
On such a day, forgettin’ that you’re travelin’ on,
Forsake the highway; take her smile,
And follow to her forest home.
She sits you down in sun-filled rooms, her meal to share,
Of bread and cheese and fresh spring water
From a glistening mug of porcelain.
You talk about your magic town,
And how you’d planned on going there,
And all this time you vaguely feel
You might be getting more than
You could give her, ever;
But for now, you’re two together.
You take her hand, and start to walk, say not a thing,
Slide through shafts of sunshine
While she shows she’s glad to find you.
You stop and stand together by a spring.
Reflected in the rippling pool are you and she-
The waves remind you:
You’d set out on a mornin’ not too long ago,
Searchin’ for a place you’d dreamed you had to go...
Without warning, drop her hand;
You’re hopin’ that she’d understand.
You hadn’t meant to leave so soon:
You’d almost spent an afternoon.
You watch her wave, while glancing back toward settin’ sun.
You can’t explain, give word or song or tarry longer, only:
You’re on your way to Revendon.
You’ll have more time for livin’ then,
But now you’re one and lonely.