Seventies Singer from Waitsgiving by Fishboy

I was thirty-three, in the seventies
When I killed my career
Writing melodies for nobody
I had filled seventeen years

If a tree falls in the woods
Was there ever a tree there at all?
The analogy botched
In my practice garage
Bandmates stare up at the wall
I clarify

If no one is listening
I’ve got a plan where
We bury our last album
Under a two foot plaque on the town square
And we’ll play one final concert
Say that we’ll rise up someday
I hung press releases
Pestered baristas
But in the end nobody came
We dig anyway that we could to move on for good
The leftover merch lit up like firewood
My drummer decides to star limousine driving
The bass built a bbq shack in his old neighborhood
And where we once stood it still sits there today
A time capsule plaque with my first borns birth date
And the word “wait”
I was fifty-three in the nineties
When my daughter found the plaque
The discovery was embarrassing
I held back
so proud as the founder
Of the town’s first Waitsgiving Day
She asked for an anthem
I sat down and wrote one
The last song that I ever made

And lately I’m found jogging downtown
Stopped at the plaque where I’m scratching the ground
With a grapefruit spoon and then one afternoon
A song on the radio calls out my digging some how
The track after that is a song I once sang
About the long run so I run, run away
Past the stand with the snow cones and I hear my old bass player say
That I don’t have to wait.


Now at seventy-three I ask humbly in my garage
If you’d all agree to form a team
And take back the album I lost
If a tree falls in the woods
It might sound like one last final plan
Naysayers say you can’t take back the past
But in this case I think that we can

• Rock
• indie rock
• Denton