Story Behind The Song
I was driving on a tour through upstate NY, outside Esperance heading toward Essex Junction VT for a show. I passed a field of flaming sumac and it brought back the memory of my mom who had died many years before who always loved to drive in the fall. I started getting visual memories of trips we'd taken, games we'd played, times we'd shared, and I missed her. I knew she was okay, wherever she was, and so was I, but I regretted some o the fights we'd had, because I knew I'd been wrong about most of them.Wrong in the way a young man when fighting with his parent. It felt good to hurt so much for her.
Song Description
Very visual song about driving in the NE on a rainy fall day, remembering someone from your past that you loved dearly. You are driving through fog in a valley, past flaming sumac, dripping stone wall fences, just driving. You remember games you played in the car together, counting silos, and horse farms, and you still have the last note they left you folded in your jeans. You miss them terribly, but not so much when you are driving.
Song Length |
3:42 |
Genre |
Pop - Easy Listening, Pop - Dreampop |
Tempo |
Slow (71 - 90) |
Lead Vocal |
Female Vocal |
Mood |
Peaceful, Poignant |
Subject |
Loneliness, Seasons |
Similar Artists |
Norah Jones, Cowboy Junkies |
Language |
English |
Era |
2000 and later |
| |
Lyrics
It's an afternoon of tired stone wall fences.
Dripping soft October rain.
There's flaming sumac on the edge of a field where I am driving.
There's a lazy fog here in the valley. Smiley face stuck to the dash. I sing a descant to a song I hardly know as I am driving.
Ch. I know you're okay. I'm okay too. Okay maybe I'd be more okay, if I were here with you. . . Driving.
I count silo's like in that game we used to play. I point out horse farms as if you're here. I will admit that I was wrong about, well, everything that mattered.
I still have the last note that you wrote me. Folded tightly in the pocket of my jeans. Sometimes on windshield wiper days, I have to wipe my face as I am . . .
Chorus.
Br. I pull off the county road, but I'm avoiding going home, because I don't feel so alone. . . when I am Driving.