Music by the Hour

I had a dream a couple of months ago that I was in a group of familiar people, musicians mostly, including my sometimes songwriting partner and producer Josh Jones. We were in this tiny restaurant and he and I had just agreed to write a song. Some of the lines were as vivid as if I had learned them years ago by memory and when I woke up, I climbed out of bed, walked to the kitchen, grabbed a pen and paper and jotted down all I could remember. The bare bones of that dream came to be “Wayne and Maggie’s Grill” about memories and loss and a certain place in the world everyone has, one that holds special, even magical, significance, but is lost to the ages. I’ve put a chart here.

[chorus]

where I’m from there ain’t no snow

and the river goes by slow

but the truckers mostly keep the hammer down

every folk and country singer

who played for tips and drinks and dinner

came to Wayne and Maggie’s Grill when they hit town

[verse 1]

that damn six lane interstate

cuts through town and up the hills

and when they put it in

it took out Wayne and Maggie’s Grill

just a whisper of a place

where Maggie’s food was hot and right,

eight tables and Wayne’s bar

and live music every night

[verse 2]

we used to call Wayne “warden”

’cause once he held a job

down at the local sheriff’s

when they was rounding up the mob

and in the Grill’s back corner

where the paint was dark with age

he put up a foot hazard

he liked to call a stage

[verse 3]

Maggie was a looker

back when Wayne had made his move

and with age she just got better

and she and Wayne fell more in love

they put everything they had

into that Grill over the years

and when it got tore down

the whole town shed the tears

[verse 4]

Wayne passed away this morning

when the cancer put him down

and Maggie’s getting on now

and their kids live out of town

but the memory of her cooking

and the music and goodwill

fills my soul with warmth and longing

for the old days at the Grill