Cloudless Innocence
My dad turned 87 yesterday

His sister would have turned 83 on Monday

I gave him a call, gave him my condolences

And told him Happy Birthday

And I could hear it in his voice that he had the blues

Damn if I was the only one left standing of nine siblings

I'd have the blues too



But we talked awhile and as always through his blues

I could hear his positive spirit

Don't know how he manages to shine so bright
But he made it to 87 so he must be doin' something right

I talked to cousin yesterday from about one to two

We talked about the old days and of course we talked about

Her mom passing away too

We talked about the new days and how far we've come

From bein' little kids playing out Navarre on a lawn



Cloudless innocence is wasted on the young

Cloudless innocence is wasted on the young


Cloudless innocence is wasted on the young

Cloudless innocence is wasted on the young



Oh my god what a year's it's been
I lost three friends and one of those friends was a relative

To a bug that I was skeptical of back in March

But when you lose loved ones to that bug

You know it ain't no farce



Then I spent all day in bed tryin' to decompress

To give the high-pitched tinnitus ringin' in my ears a rest

And to not look at a computer glowin'

Or a phone all day

And to bask in the digital-less-ness



I read three chapters of John Connolly's The Dirty South

Takes place in small town Arkansas
Black women are bein' found dead and Charlie Parker's at the local jail

Tryin' to figure it out



And Thanksgiving is approaching

On the cement sidewalks small traces of fallen leaves are encroaching

And it gives me comfort to know I'll be spending Thanksgiving with you

And your family in Telegraph Hill

I’ll be around for the holidays this year just like Jimmy Stewart



Last Thanksgiving we spent together was years ago Reykjavík

It was so cold and dark in the hotel we stayed and never left

Looking back that time was like a dream

I was playing to a full house, playin’ my guitar and singing



I miss my mom and my dad but word has it, it ain't time to travel

Numbers spiking in Ohio, best to stick around San Francisco

We can get on the phone and we can laugh and cry

We laugh about Panera Bread adventures

And cry about Aunt Mimi who less than a week ago died



I got a flu shot today and had a nice talk with a bank teller

About her year and how it’s turned out for her family and her

And we talked about gratitude

She said “Mark, for things being so grim you seem to have a good attitude”



I said “You never heard that song PMA by the Bad Brains?"

She said "Who, what are the Bad Brains?”

I said "Ah they were a punk band with a song called PMA it means

Positive Mental Attitude. There’s a documentary on them. It’s called"

Then she interrupted me said “Have a nice day Mark.”



I'm grateful to my friends who've gotten

On the phone with me and talked to me

And to those of them who took the time out to tell me that they love me



We all agree it's been a bad year but I've gotten to know

Some people better this year than I have in the last 20 years or so

People start opening up when the world is full of chaos and fear

Us songbirds are scared because we don’t fall under what constitutes necessity

WWE will be back in full swing before live music and that’s a pity



And yeah somehow I got gratitude

For my health, for the roof over my head, and you

And my mom and dad are still livin'

And I got music, so therapeutic and soul nurturing

And each day I can hear my higher powers


Foghorns blowing, birds chirping

Kids playing, the wind blowin’ the tree

With pink flowers



I look outside and see other higher powers

My succulents thriving

The wet parking lot from last nights' rain showers

The seagulls flyin' from my fire escape toward the Wharf

The blue sky that fades into creamy blue/gold as the sun sets



I feel like a speck of dust in light of all of it

I feel invisible and at peace and I embrace

All the small things

The soggy wet leaves contrasting

The cold crispy Northern California breeze



And I remember bein’ a kid and the first songs I ever sung

“Comes a Time” and “Sugar Mountain” by Neil Young

Cloudless innocence is wasted on the young

Cloudless innocence is wasted on the young

Cloudless innocence is wasted on the young

Cloudless innocence is wasted on the young