I heard the old man’s voice break
Stutter once then stop it
I heard a sentence started confidently
Halted by the sudden absence of a word
Stumbled and he sputtered trying to find it back
Something once so simple, gone now
When he finally gave up, told me:
“Aw, it’s like hell getting old”

When you came into the store
Did you know you’d show me your scars?

I had a heavy heart, he carried a door
Its shattered pane all wrapped in plastic
And he asked if I could fix it
Come by a little later, help him put it back on hinges
“See, I’m far too old to lift it, and it’s not for my house
It’s my son’s”

When you opened up the door
What is it you thought you’d find?
(Nobody flinch)

Later I came by and backed into the driveway
Got out to find him waiting there
To lead me through the side yard to
Back behind the house where the doorframe stood empty
And helped me keep it steady while I hammered all the pins in
Then, later on the porch we somehow got to talking
He told me of the house and how his son is schizophrenic
So they purchased it for him
The medication working and they figured
It would help him fit in - help him lead a normal life

But the pills made him sleep too much
And he couldn’t keep a job as a result
So, one day, he just gave up on taking them
And that day she had called you
He’d locked her outside of the house

How quickly did you get there?
And what were you thinking while walking up?
What fears flashed in front of you, taunted you
Walking to unlock the door?

I remember it, Ed, that story you told me
Came back clear tonight, here while writing
And you should know the feeling never left me
The weight of my heart, when you showed me the scars on your arms

When I looked in your eyes and I heard what you said
How you probably would’ve died were it not
For to care for your daughter and wife
How he drove in the knife, still your son
How you seemed to look through me to some old projector screen
Playing back the scene as you described it on a movie reel
As real as the minute when it happened
That memory moving behind me

That moment that changed you for good

And he drove to the house and pulled into the driveway
Got out to find his wife waiting, frantic
She’d come by to check, found that pillbox was empty
Went out to the pharmacy to fill up his prescription
And came back to a locked door and could not get back in She’d knocked and she’d knocked but he wasn't responding

You put the key into the lock and turned it
Felt the bolt slide away, slowly open
Went into the hall, his son held a knife
Standing off in the shadows, lunged forward and tackled him
Stabbing him over and over and breaking that window
He fled up the staircase
The ambulance came, stitched and filled him with blood
While the cops took his son with his wires so tangled
His father was a stranger

And I sit in my apartment
I’m getting no answers
I’m finding no peace, no release from the anger
I leave it at arms length
I’m keeping my distance from hotels and Jesus and blood on the carpet
I’m stomaching nothing
I’m reaching for no one
I’m leaving this city and I’m headed out to nowhere
I carry your image
Your grandfather’s coffin
And Ed, if you hear me, I think of you often
That’s all I can offer
That’s all that I know how to give