The Man With the Silver Hair
I often think that we don’t pay enough attention to “old” people. I feel like they know the secrets of life, what’s important, what’s fruitless…and I haven’t quite got there yet. I was thinking about this one day, and came up with a story about a beautiful old man who had had a life of sorrow, but was still able to love generously, be grateful and full of joy despite his loss. A girl watches him walk, move and talk, and her life falls short in reflection of his. I like to think of the man as Mr. Mother Theresa.
I think these are my favourite lyrics that I’ve ever written. I spent so long working out how I could describe the image of a shadow (or his darkness) underneath a footstep being eclipsed by the light of the sun… I finally came up with “childless he walks away/the sun steals the space he made/where his shadow fell/it hides his darkness well”. That was a happy moment friends.
