Edward Benz, 27 Times

I heard the old man's voice break, stutter once, then stop it
I heard a sentence started confidently, halted by the sudden absence of a word
Stumbled and he sputtered, trying to find it back, something once so simple gone now
When he finally gave up told me, "Aw, it's like hell getting old."

When you came into the store, did you know you'd show me your scars?

I had a heavy heart, he carried a door
It's shattered pane all wrapped in plastic and he asked if I could fix it
Come by a little later, help him put it back on hinges
"See, I'm far too old to lift it and it's not for my house, it's my son's."

When you opened up the door, what is it you thought you'd find?
Nobody flinch

Later I came by and backed into the driveway
Got out to find him waiting there to lead me
Through the side yard to back behind the house where the door frame stood empty
And helped me keep it steady while I hammered all the pins in

Then, later on the porch we somehow got to talking
He told me of the house and how is son is schizophrenic
So they purchased it for him
The medication working and they figured
It would help him fit in, help him lead a normal life

But the pills made him sleep too much
And he couldn't keep a job as a result
So one day, he just gave up on taking them
And that day she had called you, he'd locked her outside of the house

How quickly did you get there?
And what were you thinking while walking up?
What fears flashed in front of you, taunted you, walking to unlock the door?

I remember it, Ed, that story you told me
Came back clear tonight here while writing
And you should know the feeling never left me
The weight of my heart, when you showed me the scars on your arms

When I looked in your eyes and I heard what you said
How you probably would've died were it not
For to care for your daughter and wife
How he drove in the knife, still your son

How you seemed to look through me, through some old projector screen
Playing back the scene as you described it on a movie reel
As real as the minute when it happened, that memory, moving behind me
That moment that changed you for good

And he drove to the house and pulled into the driveway
Got out to find his wife waiting, frantic
She'd come by to check, found that pillbox was empty
Went out to the pharmacy to fill up his prescription

And came back to a locked door and could not get back in
She'd knocked and she'd knocked but he wasn't responding

You put the key into the lock and turned it
You felt the bolts slide away, slowly opened
Went into the hall, your son held a knife
Standing off in the shadows, lunged forward and tackled him

Stabbing him over and over, and breaking that window
He fled up the staircase
The ambulance came, stitched and filled him with blood
While the cops took his son, with his wires so tangled
His father was a stranger

And I sit in my apartment
I'm getting no answers
I'm finding no peace, no release from the anger
I leave it at arms length

I'm keeping my distance
From hotels and Jesus, and blood on the carpet
I'm stomaching nothing, I'm reaching for no one
I'm leaving this city and I'm headed out to nowhere

I carry your image, your grandfather's coffin
And Ed, if you hear me, I think of you often
That's all I can offer
That's all that I know how to give