Like so many other songs, this one began as a musical idea while sitting in wild garden in back of the house that live in among the six foot high sunflowers, goldfinches, squirrels and the ubiquitous pigeons.  This garden is an oasis for me, but it is just a short walk to the center of town.  Most days the pigeons sit high up on the roof of the house and wait for the sun to hit the bird feeder.  When it does they all fly down and peck birdseed off the ground.  Lately they've learned that if they fly up and grab the feeder with their talons and flap there wing like mad, they can shake most of the food out of the bird feeder.  I used to chase them off.  But we have reached an understanding. 

I must have been feeling especially good when I wrote this.

THESE ARE THE DAYS  

The days flow by like water
Nickel dreams in a ten dollar town
Visions land like pigeons on the eaves
They just glide on down
I'm listening to the sound of the sea
Or is that the cars on the boulevard
You know I've been through hell
But right now, well
Life doesn't seem so hard

These are the days of hope and glory
These are the times of promise underneath the troubled sky
There is no ending to this story
You can tell me all your troubles
'Cause I don't have time for mine

I've made my peace with the past you know
But it still won't let go of me
While I build my dreams on a future of uncertainty
I don't really know what I'm doing
I'm just trying not to try too hard
While the winds of change rearrange the leaves in my back yard

These are the days of hope and glory
These are the times of promise underneath the troubled sky
There is no ending to this story
You can tell me all your troubles
'Cause I don't have time for mine
John Boehmer    © 2003