From the recording Wait Until You Get Here
(When we first got to Aspen, we played in a great little club, unfortunately now gone, called The Howling Wolf. I wrote this after seeing a young singer perform there. Eric Johnson plays the beautiful guitar solo.)
Lyrics
She Looks at me through the eyes of a child, She thinks I'm jaded and opinionated
She sees me as a counterfeit bill, I revel In her Innocence.
So I took her to a restaurant, I ordered wine and soufle
It didn't matter much about the conversation, I'd said it all before this day.
Just wait until you get here, You'll see what I mean
Just wait until you get here, Through these rivers and streams.
I wandered into The Howling Wolf Cafe, I saw a kid with a guitar
Everyone was just loving him, So in tune with where they are
I ate and I drank I tried to listen to his words
But through the tapping of feet, His youth was all I heard.
Just wait until you get here, You'll see what I mean
Just wait until you get here, Through these rivers and streams.
I'm no prophet, saint or seer. Dark to light, day to night, all comes clear
There's no need for fear.
I met an old man at Gramercy Park, He was playing chess with a friend
2000 years of memories, No beginning and no end.
He told me he was a philosopher, A connoisseur of fine art
But when I asked him for his name, He said the state of man weighed heavy on his heart CHORUS