Then and now. Where'd all his hair go? Is he wearing .... hearing aids?! There's a knowing in his eyes that wasn't there in that first, earlier session all those years ago, where he had his head down, his long hair falling over his youthful face as he sang fire and rain into his guitar. That voice--it hasn't changed.
There was someone I always thought I'd see one day again too--like in the song--but never did. And everytime I hear this song, I remember ... that some things remain unfinished, like our ongoing conversations with the dead. It's been five years, two months and three weeks already. I always thought I'd see you, somehow, somewhere, someday ... just one more time.
We never did actually get to say it, dancing around the fact in a feeble attempt to stop time. We talked about other things: a film you had watched, the book you were reading: Brian Moore's A Burnt Out Case. What kind of book is that to be reading on your deathbed? We both laughed. Stage IV got you before you had a chance to call back.
Fire and rain ... and eyes that smile. You again. Still ... there.