The First Page

[Verse 1] Found an old issue of Myths of Jersey On a shelf beside the door. Dog-eared corners, faded cover, Like a hundred hands before. That old man watched me reading With a smile beneath his brim. I put two dollars on the counter. He slid them back again. He said, "Take it. Keep it with you. Something for the road." Then he placed it in my fingers, And the bell rang soft and low. [Chorus] Turn the page. Take the ride. See what Jersey keeps inside. Just a story. Just some ink. Nothing strange enough to think That a road could choose a driver, That a book could choose a hand. I thought I'd found some local stories. They had other plans. [Verse 2] Clinton Road and phantom headlights. Coins beneath an old stone bridge. Someone swore they'd seen a white stag Standing high along a ridge. Captain Kidd still walked the shoreline. Ghost Lake held the moon. I was halfway through a sentence When the radio lost its tune. I'd meant to stop and get some coffee. Took a turn I didn't know. Saw a diner through the windshield Like the page had said I'd go. [Chorus] Turn the page. Take the ride. See what Jersey keeps inside. Just a story. Just some ink. Nothing strange enough to think That a road could choose a driver, That a book could choose a hand. I thought I'd found some local stories. They had other plans. [Verse 3] Set it down beside my coffee. Waitress stopped before she poured. Ran a finger down the cover. "Where'd you get this? What old store?" Told her, "Somewhere in the Barrens. Couldn't tell you which damn road. Little place with one light burning. Old man said to take it home." She said, "I've driven there for thirty years. There's no shop like that I know." Then I saw him in the window, Though the sidewalk stood alone. I turned around. Nobody. Looked back. There he stood. Raised one finger to his smiling lips, Then vanished where he shouldn't. [Instrumental] [Bridge] Left the magazine beside the plate. Paid my bill and found the door. Heard the waitress call behind me, But I wasn't reading more. Made it out across the parking lot. Got in. Turned the key. There it lay upon the passenger seat, Opened up and waiting for me. I reached to throw it out again. My fingers wouldn't move. My hand held tight around the spine. I watched it, white and bruised. I told myself to let it go. I held it all the same. Then the pages started turning. I hadn't touched the spine. [Final Chorus] Turn the page. Take the ride. Something's sitting by my side. Just a story. Just some ink. That's what I was trying to think. But the road had found its driver, And the book had found its hand. I could swear I'd chosen every turn. Now I don't think I can. [Outro] Leeds Point. After dark. I read it twice. I knew the way. I wanted to turn toward home. My hands turned the other way.