Sandra's Song

This song is dedicated to Sandra Wheeler and Lucy Snowe. I sent it to Sandra, return receipt requested, but she never opened it.

So here it is (Key of G major, Common Time):

And you might catch a glimpse of him
No matter where you are,
He's nursing luke-warm beer
In some fly-blown ex-pat bar.
And he still wears your memory
Like some war-worn veteran's scar,
And still each night he wonders how you are.

They say he had a life once,
But he threw it all away.
He swears that all he's ever known
Is living day to day,
And never gets his bags unpacked,
But must be on his way.
He wishes he could talk to you,
But nothing's left to say.

And you might catch a glimpse of him
No matter where you are.
You will recognize him by his battered, cheap guitar.
Trying to pluck notes 'Might Have Been'
Out of 'Chords That Are.'
And still each night he wonders how you are.

He's looking out a casement on a sea of fairy foam.
His bill is paid, his bag is packed with just a fine-toothed comb.
Of all the places
That he thinks
It's likely that he'll roam,
He wishes you were with him
And one might prove a home.

And you might catch a glimpse of him
No matter where you are.
Strumming off-key somewhere, in some rancid ex-pat bar.
He knows no matter where he goes, he'll never get too far,
But still each night he wonders how you are.