For Denver

A friend and at one point in time "more than friend" passed away this past weekend. Last night we gathered at the Four Faced Liar to toast to him. Denver Cochrane was a magical person. He shows up in a few poems of mine (All Kinds of Shipwrecks, Little Monogamy etc.) and a few songs. This one in particular was a song I wrote in July of 2004 after we stopped seeing each other. I think Jason Pendergraft still sings it when he performs. It's a little melancholy, but hey, I had a crush. Some friends asked me to post it so here it is. For Denver.



He takes off his shoes and his baseball hat
He sits down next to you and says, enough of that
The people have gone home, the bar’s empty at last
And the sun comes up where the moon should be at

He smells like smoke and money and sin
And you don’t want to know where his mind has been
His arms are oak wood, but his heart’s made of tin
And you know for certain you’re not going to win

So you say, if he were a car, well then you would take the train
And if he were the sun, well then you would pray for rain
But you’re both heading to that same small town
That town in between the ups and the downs

Everybody’s dying and everybody’s sick
He lays next to you and says enough of this
There’s a dark in his eyes and a bitter in his kiss
But he’s got a drink that’s so hard to resist

But every boxer needs a reason to fight
And every shadow needs just a little bit of light
And you know you can make it
You just can’t make it right

So you say, if he were a car, well then you would take the train
And if he were the sun, well then you would pray for rain
But you’re both heading to that same small town
That town in between the ups and the downs
That town in between the ups and the downs