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lyrics

2. Aubade

“You can’t break a broken doll,”
She said behind a riptide smile.
She had a heat could take the paint off walls
Like it was going out of style.

“I had a run-in with the chapel bell,”
She said, “left me deaf to Auld Lang Syne.
I had an old man up the coast a spell,
used to beat me with a book of rhymes.”

She lit a smoke by the trainyard fence;
Her hair was autumn brown.
She said, “I know that it don’t make much sense,
But I gotta get out of this town.
I love a man who’s up in Misery Bay and
I believe it’s killing me.
God knows I’ve got to get away
Before the Devil knows I’m free.”

And there’s maybe nothing so sad
As a morning like an aubade,
Lying an old bed,
Gold on eyes that open,
Dreams like dying embers,
So hard to remember,
Frozen there in amber—
Maybe that’s not so bad;
I just want you to know that.

Conversations with the dial tone
Are a one-way street at best,
But trade your land-line for a cell phone:
You’ll learn the meaning of depressed.

I still love all the years we didn’t have
before she had to go, and I said,
“Can we ever do this all again sometime?”
She said: “I’ll write to let you know.”

And there’s maybe nothing so sad
As a morning like an aubade,
Lying an old bed,
Gold on eyes that open,
Dreams like dying embers,
So hard to remember,
Frozen there in amber—
Maybe that’s not so bad.
I just want you to know that
A morning like an aubade,
Lying an old bed,
Gold on eyes that open,
Dreams like dying embers,
So hard to remember,
Frozen there in Amber—
Maybe that’s not so bad;
I just want you to know that.

credits

from Desolation Sound, released June 30, 2018
All vocals & instruments by Luke Maynard
Written by Luke Maynard

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Luke Maynard Toronto, Ontario

Singer-songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, old-school Canadian acoustic troubaour, and all-purpose sonic roustabout.

Loitering around the upper frets since 1996.

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