New song

Michael Timmins on Townes Van Zandt: “What he taught me was that no matter how lyrical or poetic a song is, it should always be grounded in a place or an event.”

– A Deeper Blue: The Life and Music of Townes Van Zandt, Robert Earl Hardy


This April I was working in an arts colony in the mountains of Virginia. Everything was fresh and green, coming back to life; all you had to do was set foot outside and you felt full of possibility. One morning I woke up thinking about the spring my father died, nineteen years ago, and how my mother wasn't much older then than I am now. I tried to imagine how she might feel on a day like this.

Tender Green

in the hills it’s early spring
morning opens tender green
bluest sky, wish you could see it

with my hands I count the days
old men bring me tired bouquets
small talk, comfort when I need it

young and reckless for too long
we thought love would make us strong
why’d you leave me here alone
I still love you anyhow

you were the sleekest boy I’d seen
I said you were my own James Dean
and I the country girl who’d hold you

your dark car blazing in the sun
I saw the man you might become
a gentle man, I wish I’d told you

all the nights and all the days
all the miles that rolled away
all the things I did not say
I would say them to you now

robins sing, the mountains rise
I think of you and close my eyes
where did they go, our by-and-bys
I would cry if I knew how

headlong days and wasted nights
we lost our chance to make things right
I'm tired of being broken

all the hills are tender green
can you hear the robins sing
sad and bright the morning opens