Driving South
Well I traded some songs
For an old record player
And a suitcase that came from the war
I knew I didn't need it
But I was feeling kinda low
From the letter that you nailed to my door
So I headed for the coastlands
With my favourite guitar
A dented but shining gold horn
I knew i couldn't play it
But it made me feel better
Just to see it on the passenger floor
Out driving south
With the radio playing old songs
Thinking about my old wrongs
Quietly drifting away
A lifetime ago
I was holding your head in my hands
Trying to make sense of your plans
And all that I wanted to say
There's a beach near Mzumbe
With forest and flags
And a baptism pool by the mouth
An hour from here
Past the old railway station
Below the proud rock of the south
There's a man there named David
Singing songs from the old days
Laying each precious one down
And I've been there to see him
Like a priest at confession
The words just wouldn't come out
Out driving south
With the radio playing old songs
Thinking about my old wrongs
Quietly drifting away
A lifetime ago
I was holding your head in my hands
Trying to make sense of your plans
And all that I wanted to say
I've righted my wrongs and I'll turn them to songs
And I'll bleed them right out of my hands
And you'll hear me
And you'll understand
'Cause I know that you're leaving
So I'll settle my soul
With my head down and work till I bleed
There's no use in grieving
Or thinking or feeling
The magnitude of this great need
But I'll see you again
When the winter wind's blowing
And farmlands have all gone to sea
Glorious snow
In the town on the mountain
Where the children run happy and free
Out driving south
With the radio playing old songs
Thinking about my old wrongs
Quietly drifting away
A lifetime ago
I was holding your head in my hands
Trying to make sense of your plans
And all that I wanted to say
Out driving south
