hurry sundown... put this day to rest
I'm feeling run down... not up to my best
this day is nt my own, and I'd sooner be at home
hurry sundown... I'll fly back to the nest.
hurry sundown, come on twilight...
let the first star herald the kind night
hurry sundown... come on moon rise
let me lay down... and close these tired eyes.
hurry sundown... I need my lover's tuch
night can't come too soon
this day has been too much
and I'm feeling too rough
for naught but making love...
hurry sundown... bring me what I'm dreaming of.
... well ... I almost recall the day this little lyric was penned... (though it could have been any of many)... I spent far too many days in the sad homes of other people; back when it was my lot to do so, in order that folks might spend time with their children... 'supervised access'... an uncomfortable situation at best; and often far from 'best'. I would often introduce myself as 'friend of the family' (when other folks would wonder who the heck I was)... and that was who and what I tried to be...friend to the children, certainly. Some of the most heartfelt (and hard) condolences to accept after the passing of my son came from 'clients'. They knew all too well the pain of having a child 'taken'... though of course not in so final a manner. love to all, d.