Borderline

There's a bird somewhere above my driveway
In a spruce that escaped my saw
And he sings in key when I play in E
But I haven't played too much so far

Cause I'm building my house this summer
From the ground up to the peak
With a radiant floor and a glass French door
Facing Bald Mountain to the east

Each day I work in the shade of the maples
Where the air smells like a childhood lost
And I'm gonna get it built without a leak, without a tilt
And we'll move in by the frost

This morning I woke up above the clouds
Till the sun roused them from their beds
In the chilly valleys, where the rivers breathe into the air
As they churn the jagged rocks to death

I see my friends less as I age
And I feel that middle-age loneliness lurk
One's in Vietnam, one's in Kentucky, one's in Colorado, and I'm
Up in Vermont, trying to make it work
I guess we're all trying to make it work

Why couldn't I, why couldn't I
Have moved above the 45 instead of wishing that I could
Why couldn't I, why couldn't I
Be happy in the sunshine? I crave the snow, I crave the woods
I crave the rocks, I crave the streams
And the cedar bridge that crosses from the street

Each day outside with nail guns and compressors
With drills and miter saws that scream an awful tune
And my back has started pinching, and my hands hurt when I clench them
And holy shit, it's only June

But when I ache, I think of Keith Richards
I think of Clapton, Jimmy Page, and Elvis
And if their bodies got them through the sixties
Then my body can get me through this

It's twenty miles to the borderline
Then Montréal, Québec, and hinterland
Then that wild north frontier, where I long to disappear
For reasons I'll never understand

But there I go, being dramatic
Talking death when I'm 31 this spring
I guess I'm at my best when I've got someone to impress
But oh man, that gets so tiring
Oh man, it gets so tiring