County Nowhere

lost

North Bound

Nimmo’s Pier

Prodigal

I was thirty miles from the next state
when I broke down and lost all faith.
Stumbled out in the pouring rain
and splashed in the rhythms of your name.
I’m out here in the pouring rain and I’ve lost all faith.

We were young, in love and mad
and people said it wouldn’t last,
that I’m a devil in a gypsy mask
bound to wander right off the map.
I’m a devil in a gypsy mask.

So it was I came to be
lost in a world that I would leave.
Always bound to the next town
to fulfill my prophecy.
so it was that I came to be lost–
a prodigal prophecy.

I warmed my hands on a cup of coffee
and thought about a life at sea,
where in the rage of a churning storm I could find my inner peace.
We never made it off the docks our sails were much too torn.
It stayed a dream–a reverie–I’m not the one you need.

I traded in my youth for a ride across the county line.
I had three down and under my belt, I thought I would be alright.
I was thirty miles from the next state
when I broke down and lost all faith.
just one man in a broke-down van on that long lost highway.

So it was that I can to be
lost in a world that I would leave.
always bound to the next town
to fulfill my prophecy.
So it was that I came to be lost–
a prodigal prophecy.