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I walked along the aqueduct<\/span> <\/p>\n The old college try.<\/p>\n One last night of talking. Crying. Yelling, maybe. Holding each other quietly. And then walking out into the morning air and knowing nothing will ever be the same again.<\/p>\n Do it enough times, you get good at it.<\/p>\n I had favorite spots I’d go when I was nursing a broken heart. I don’t want to give them away… especially since some of them were also my favorite spots for winning a girl over… crashing surf has often had a positive affect on my love life. It’s the ions or something.<\/p>\n But there aren’t any good aqueducts around here, though. Not that I know of. Maybe some up in the mountains. So that part of this song was pretty much fiction. Southern California leans more toward concrete-trapped rivers… which have their own parched charm, I suppose but have never drawn me through the hazy nether-consciousness of a broken heart as have various seaside cliffs, dumpy oil well-covered hills overlooking endless grids of twinkling lights, or lonely stretches of sand.<\/p>\n But I have strolled along a few aqueducts in North America and Europe and I thought there was something kind of evocative about the notion.<\/p>\n Also, characters in my songs had walked by oceans, rivers, streams, floated on ponds, splashed in puddles, driven along lonely coasts and generally explored most of the other song-worthy picturesques that come easily to mind.<\/p>\n That’s why.<\/p>\n\n
\n just before the dawn.<\/span>
\n The sun looked old and tired as it came up<\/span>
\n but at least now the night is gone…<\/span><\/p>\n