Early April

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Dylan Goff

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We make our start in the predawn dark
Braving damp early April cold
Loading the blackened harp in the back of the car
Then edge it out onto the road
I don't want to go
I don't want to go
In convoys of self reflection we each keep to our own
Culpability hunt through memories
Each of us armed to the teeth with fine-tooth combs
I don't want to go
I don't want to go

I just want to go back to her smile in the wintertime
Crisp jack-frost grass under clear classy chilblain skies
Turn her around
I want to go back, cast my blind eyes into the sun
While she sits there laughing and telling me "It's nothing much"
Yeah, it's nothing

Whack-a-mole rage leaps out of each page
When there are no feelings on show
My tired arms have been hammering hard
As our old car winds past abandoned homes
I don't want to go
I don't want to go

I just want to go back to her sat by the riverside
As salmon-spawn ripples rolled out across the creeping tide
I think that's where we all drowned
I want to go back, cast my blind eyes into the sun
While she sits there laughing and telling me "It's nothing much"
Yeah, it's nothing

I want to go back, creak the floors of lapsed grace
Pleading cap-in-hand with the false angels and saints
And whisper to phantoms that never take hold
That you get to waste time when you get to grow old
I want to go back, reach in through the glass veil
Paint her stories in pictures when a thousand words fail
Tell her each happy end leaves its own kind of scar
While I'm bandaging chapters in the back of the car
I want to go back, cast my blind eyes into the sun
Sit here in darkness until my time comes
'Cause you just wait for answers until you give up
And I want to go back, tell her we're trading places
I want to go back, save us all from our fates
And I want to go back, and laugh that it's all nothing much

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