Antiquarian’s Lament

I miss the old days, wagon roads in muddy clay and

Nights with the stare forever, all gone-returning never and

I miss the hand-hewn wood, doors built strong and good.

Houses stood for generations, God and gold and venerations and

Oh how those times are gone, now the light bulbs are going on

There’s a car coming down the drive

I guess I’m a live – now – but I miss how

(Whistle)

How the world was endless, the wilderness was so green and vast.

How the sky was a mystery, nothing else could ever be. 

They lived in a ruthless cloud, where the flowers sang out loud

And everything that came to pass would be laid to rest beneath the grass and 

Oh how those times are gone, we touch the Earth when we mow the lawn.

There’s a problem with my hard drive, 

I guess I’m a live – now – but I miss how

(Whistle)

How the snow fell and fell, how the uncles helped dig the well

How they worked to harvest grain, curse the dust and prayed for rain

We still can’t see what’s coming, through the static and through the humming

But I would trade this modern science for a life of self-reliance

Oh how those times are gone, I want a nonfat latte with no whipped cream on.

Think I need it just to survive,

I guess I’m a live – now – but I miss how

(Whistle)

How we miss what we’ve never seen, dream about what might have been,

When I see the city sprawl, pavement to the sentry wall.

The polar bear was safe back then, now all we do is to pretend

Read in books and think about, 

All that we‘ve been left without and 

Oh how those times are gone, I’m standing here with my big shoes on

My plane leaves a quarter to five,

I guess I’m a live – now – but I miss how 

(Whistle or doot yadoo)

Written by Sara Hoxie. Song appeared on the albums Prayer for Feather River and Waterfall Boy.