(for Stan)
[verse]
My brother had a way of being
just out of reach
just over some hill only
he saw and only he could cross.
He liked to talk more than listen
much as we all do
and when he had something significant
to say he’d lean heavy on his pool cue.
[chorus]
Lover of fast cars
he rode bikes and busses thinking
up political cartoons
that he’d never ink.
[verse]
Stan was once married for a while
a long time ago.
He said it was over when the
waffles hit the wall, in the waffle iron.
He could quote Dostoyevsky
and liked Walt Whitman,
admiring Thoreau and Mark Twain –
sometimes apt, usually arcane.
[chorus]
Lover of fast cars
he rode bikes and busses thinking
up political cartoons
that he’d never ink.
[verse]
He’d never let me past his
porch where he’d smoke
like a recluse, a misanthrope.
He’d be obtuse, and I’d try to keep up.
I don’t think he lived anywhere
else outside of a
week or two on a job
except for kid years in Santa Barbara.
Interested in a world where
people read between
the lines and see beyond thin air,
perhaps Stan will find it over there.
[verse]
C /// C6 ///
Gm7 ///
Ab6 /// Gm7 ///
AMa7 /// //// G /// ////
[chorus]
F /// ////
Am7 /// //// AMa7 ///
F /// Am ////
CMa9 /// G /// ////
