Black Dog (The Photographer's Tale)

My children fear I'm getting old From my advice they seem estranged I need to make the time to go up the road Before my reflection's changed The ocean's always been my home Low tides won't last I want to wake up in different sunlight Change the shadow of my past Oh, Black Dog sleeping with your head on my knee The window is wide open, surely by now you'd fly free In the morning I'll pack an overnight bag Take the short way up the coast Dust off old chances With one who loves her country most Things never turned out like our plans Through circumstance we wouldn't step out of line I still can feel the warmth of her soft hands The glances I wasn't sure were mine Oh, Black Dog sleeping with your head on my knee The window is wide open, surely by now you'd fly free My younger self came to me last night Boots worn out from the pace I was way past crying Summer was in my face Our drinking time is sacred With metaphors of what will be All these years and I still can't believe Things I cannot touch or see