And They Stood Upon The Lawn ...

And our heads were filled with poetry ... Sparse and haunting. The most evocative of songs. Senses filled with a location never visited. Another perfect moment in time.  "And the grass didn't grow ..." And our souls were clean ...

And he loved the little children ... I don't know why this song is so intoxicating. It puts me in the room with Van, drink in hand, while he sits at the piano and tells me all about this man.  I feel like I know him intimately.  Almost as if somehow it is my story as well. Or could be. Touching, beautiful and wondrous.  Lord, he was a drinking man ...

This is it ... Van celebrating where he is, back in Ireland (despite recording this track in NYC) having travelled far (all the way to California and the Palomar mountain range and observatory), hiding away in the studio, laying down the tracks so fresh they're still wet, with absolute freedom to drift in song. You can't fail to hear how much this all means, his impassioned vocal is among the finest he has ever laid down. Open hearted and open throated, you feel it right inside. He's gone. In the cul de sac, so smooth I look down Be less sure sir And take your rest It's been much too long  Since we drifted in song Lay it down wet In this hide away Oh I travelled far To the nearest star And met Palomar, mar, mar, And we don't care just who you know  It's who you are And when they all go home Down the cobblestones You can double back (this is it) To a cul de sac Oh I travelled far The nearest star And M...