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Golden eyes, hold your head up high now,

though you tire of the fight,

and you're out of steam now.

Golden eyes, pull those blankets close now

and let the world slip away...

fight your battles another day.

In the morning, arise

with a fire in your eyes,

and know that I'm thinking of you,

for you matter to me.

Golden eyes, let me help you cry now...

let me hold you tight,

and catch the tears as they fall.

Golden eyes, here's a lullaby now,

written just to lull you into sleep,

and cradle your heart.

In the morning... etc.

"Empty Beds"

Oh child, your eyes betray a sadness that I cannot quell... this mirror's in the way,

and my touch falls short. It's always intercepted by this frosty glass,

and it seems that I can't reach you at all.

Oh child, your voice betrays a sadness that I cannot quell; your lips are far away,

and my kiss falls short. It's always intercepted by this plastic phone,

and it seems that I can't reach you at all.

My bed is empty save for piles of clean clothes,

and if I had my choice, that would never change;

at least, not 'til I could hold you in these arms

and whisper away all the worries that haunt your brain.

Your bed is empty save for silent stuffed animals,

and if I had my choice, that would never change;

at least, not 'til you could hold me in your arms

and whisper away all the worries that plague my brain.

Your smiling eyes seem miles away tonight,

and I'm thirsty for their gaze,

so come and spirit me away.

My hands are empty save for hopes and these six strings,

and until I see you love, that will never change.

And then I'll hold you, and we'll waltz around the room.

You know you'll see me soon, so keep on smiling!

Your smiling eyes, etc.

"In Closing" (C.O. 10/1/04)

I left home two hours ago with a note in my hand

that said "You're the only thing that's keeping me alive."

And now I'm headed for this place it seems I just cannot escape.

Eternal strings you hold will guide me back to you.

As winter's chill grows cold I'm plotting out my course

that will leave me in Ontario tonight by 10 p.m.

Through this sickness, I am writing out these words,

hoping they will fill a void that spans beyond this distance

to the cultures that it holds.

I would spread my arms and fly, but they'd cry "Witchery!"

If only they could see you, then I'm sure that they'd approve of what I'm doing...

This summer's gone, but I'd say it was well spent.

You stole my bed, so I was left here sleeping on the couch.

And all it took was one trip to this fabled East Coast,

and now you know it's true when I say "July here is Hell on earth."

Then I saw you off to fly your way back home...

Here I am, still writing songs for you to fill this empty time.

Through this sickness, etc.

"An Ontario Winter"

The snow mutes the earth like a blanket covering every inch of ground,

and I swear I was never warm when I lived in that dreary little town.

The sky never cleared, and that was fine, because it trapped in the warmth,

and the wind ripped right through my clothes to numb my limbs

in a matter of minutes.

But I promise you, December never tasted so good before.

Your room was warm; we listened as the wind whipped the trees.

And the ice covered streets were slick; they could bring you to your knees.

My clothes were soaked; it's unavoidable as you wade through the slush,

and I never got used to taking off my shoes as I came in the front.

But I promise you, December never tasted so good before,

as I hid with you and we waited out those storms.
Churchill Drive is frosted over like the rest of this miserable place,

but it's nothing compared to the chill on my face.

"My Pillow and Your Shampoo"

You're still lingering in this room.

My bed still smells like you.

I think it's more than I can bear...

You know I still can't sleep there.

Sometimes you just have to smile and move on.

This silence wears me down.

I just miss your little sounds,

and I wonder if you're smiling

when your voice just says your tired.

Sometimes you just have to smile and move on.

You checked out for the weekend, all dressed up and no place to go.

It seems all the love you're seeking isn't to be found at home.

The sun will rise and fall on us until we play our parts...

they just don't tell us where to start.

Sometimes...