He plays to the lake,
And plays it for the lake;
He reverbs the pestilence away.
He finger picks
New Age Chords come of age,
A struck soft seven, a fanned fourth
A pair of twos, and a planned flatted fifth.
New Age chords age to echoes from a small
Peavey crate amp, from this guitar
He's played for his whole life.
Just comp'ing chords out here, out there.
Just playing what he feels.
It's no big deal.
I'd tell him yesterday the gnats were here.
I'd tell him yesterday the lake dressed up
In Atlantic waves to reclaim her shores.
I'd tell him right now, but Massabesic
Just exhaled, and last year I gave up
Go different than rivers, than oceans.
Lake Blues stay with you.
The more you hold, the greater the peace,
The greater the story told.
We go to the ocean to fall in love;
We go to a lake to stay there.
A river grows and tears her banks
To break out bigger banks.
What troubles a river, doubles the trouble;
What troubles a lake, adds to her calm.
A lake's power is her capacity to hold The Blues;
To steady with stone her hard fought peace,