https://soundclick.com/share.cfm?id=13701058

Another song produced  and sung by Mike Zaneski.
I'd like to thank Mike once again for his time and patience in addressing issues which cropped up along the way
This time it's a double thank you as Dave Rice and I collaborated on this new song.
I initially saw it as a  contemporary folk song so did Dave. However Mike presented us with the idea of turning  it into an Adult Contemporary song.
Never really written songs in this genre before Dave and I were a little uneasy.
This completed version changed our minds.
Hope you like it too
Please take a listen


WHERE ARE YOU?
V
She could count her lovers… on one finger of her hand
and when he left her lonely... she tried to understand...
He always had this wanderlust... yet she knew some day
he'd drift back on a gypsy wind… it had always been that way.
V
Her daydreams fused with memories... of the passion in their hearts
she hated speculation... their words like poison darts.
Then weeks turned into months... and his letters were so few
and when she read each one out loud... her heart said, “Where are You?”

Is this the day he'll come back home… believing it was true...
I know you're out there somewhere… Please tell me, where are you? tell me where are you..
B
In the fire… embers flicker… last dance before they die…
she finished off her coffee… looked out at the sky…
then climbed those stairs of solitude… who'd hold her when she'd cry.
V
She cried into the lonely night… tell me… where are you?
Then sobbed until her pillow… was wet like morning dew.
When Angels watching from above... would wipe her sad eyes dry…
on mystic wings they flew with her... then each morning said goodbye...
V
They soared above the valleys… then followed mountain streams…
until they reached that place… where he still held her dreams.
And when her eyes would open… as each morning's light was new…
She held onto his pillow… and whispered, “Where are you?”
V
She'd walk along the shore..  looking out at sea
he was like the ocean's ebb and flow… always wild and free
but some day soon he'd come back home just like he's done before
He'll hear the beating of her heart… as he's walking through the door.

Last edited by Travis david; 03/06/18 07:11 AM.
We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. Oscar Wilde