12 — THE REASONS NEVER TOLD Subtitle: The Word from the Wise Voice: Earthling addressing the unknown Creator; Elias’s creative synthesis for this album [Style: Cosmic Americana, psychedelic bluegrass, slow soul gospel; intimate weathered baritone, fingerpicked guitar, bowed bass, distant fiddle, organ, harmonica, gradual choir. 76 BPM, E minor to G major. End quietly.] [Intro — spoken] To the Maker of this home— Whoever hears beyond our names— I brought the questions. I brought a song. [Verse 1] Who taught the dark to carry stars? Who gave the root its thirst? Who put the listening in our bones, And which of us spoke first? I’ve heard a thousand answers From a thousand certain mouths. Tonight I leave the window open, Let the evening hear me out. [Chorus] For the reasons never told, For the names we cannot know, Let me tend this little fire While the larger mysteries grow. If I never find the answer To what all this living means, May somebody find some shelter In the life I live between. [Verse 2] I have asked You why the children Sometimes leave before the old. I have tried to make an order Of the things I couldn’t hold. I won’t call their pain a lesson To make my story come out right. I will sit beside the grieving, Keep a lamp on through the night. [Chorus — repeat; low harmony] [Verse 3] Now the table has gone quiet, Every notebook turned a page. We can send our words through heaven; We can manufacture rage. Give us time enough to notice What our clever hands have done. Let us build a world a child Can safely wake up in and run. [Bridge — dry vocal; one guitar] If You speak, I will be listening. If there’s silence, I’ll stay near. There’s a neighbor at the doorway; There is something I can hear. I can carry in her groceries. I can learn to say her name. I can leave the ground more gentle Than the ground on which I came. [Harmonica solo — tender, 16 bars] [Final chorus — warm restrained choir] For the reasons never told, For the names we cannot know, Let us tend this little fire While the larger mysteries grow. If we never find the answer To what all this living means, May our children find some shelter In the world we leave between. [Outro — spoken; instruments fall away] Good morning, Lord. I am again. There’s water on the table. There’s room beside my friend.
