Camera

A soft ballad written July 26-27, 2006 while looking back on a trip to Italy with my wife in 1998, when I indeed lost my camera. The verse I didn’t write was about how, after realizing I had left it behind, we backtracked several miles to the tiny Tuscan village to retrieve it. That would have sucked the drama out of the song entirely.

 

Started slow, started warm, started soft and quietly

With a bottle of red from the north of Italy

Stayed a week in the hills in your blessed company

In a villa built in the thirteenth century

I lost my camera coming home to America

 

Fireside, cold dark night, with two winter months to go

Dream of blue mountain lakes from too many years ago

To remind my memory, I have no photographs to show

Thought you’d still be with me – what did I know?

I lost my camera coming home to America

 

Help me to remember

What we saw together

And what we were together

Before we were overexposed

 

When my mind’s shot to hell and I can’t stand on my own

Will you sleep comfortably knowing I’m here all alone?

How I wish you’d show up or simply call me on the phone

To describe how we met when the sun shone

I lost my camera coming home to America

Though I have few memories, I still see your face vividly

 

Help me to remember

What we saw together

And what we were together

Before we were overexposed

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *