An only child, alone and wild, a cabinet maker's son,
His hands were meant for different work and his heart was known to none.
He left his home and went his lone and solitary way
And he gave to me a gift I know I never can repay.
A quiet man of music, denied a simpler fate,
He tried to be a soldier once but his music wouldn't wait.
He earned his love through discipline, a thund'ring, velvet hand.
His gentle means of sculpting souls took me years to understand
The leader of the band is tired and his eyes are growing old
But his blood runs through my instrument and his song is in my soul.
My life has been a poor attempt to imitate the man.
I'm just a living legacy to the leader of the band.
My brothers' lives were different, for they heard another call.
One went to Chicago and the other to Saint Paul
And I'm in Colorado, when I'm not in some hotel
Living out this life I've chosen, come to know so well.
I thank you for the music and your stories of the road
I thank you for the freedom when it came my time to go
I thank you for the kindness and the times when you got tough
And, Papa, I don't think I said "I love you" near enough.
The leader of the band is tired and his eyes are growing old
But his blood runs through my instrument and his song is in my soul.
My life has been a poor attempt to imitate the man.
I'm just a living legacy to the leader of the band.
I am the living legacy to the leader of the band.
Listened to the 100th song by Metallica since last year.
Listened to the 100th song by Halestorm this year.
No comments:
Post a Comment