WHO'S TO SAY?

Who's to say? And who's to know?...
What secrets hide inside another man's soul.
What brings him joy...what brings him pain...
What thing can touch his soul until he'll never be the same.

And what of hope? What becomes of the dream?...
That can light the darkest night...the bleakest day redeem.
Is it lost, or somehow just misplaced?
Is there life without it? Is it something I could face?...
Well, I just don't know.

No, I don't have the answers...don't even have a clue.
Jim and me were just sittin' here, when conversation turned to you.
And we spoke of your life, your laughter...tried to put that down in this song...
The bittersweet emotions we've been feelin', since you've gone.

So, what of our lives then, are we each to blame?
Or are we just some nameless players in some cosmic game?
Are these secrets only death reveals?
And will I ever have the words to describe these things I feel?

Well, I sure don't have the answers...I just do what I can do...
I face the dawn, try to carry on, try to see each day as new.
Yeah, I do my best to accept it, but there's so much I don't understand.
I guess some constant state of confusion just seems to be the plight of a man.

So, I may never understand it "Bull", no matter how I try.
I guess, on the face, it will always seem a waste, such a good man chose to die.
But, I'll do my best to accept it, 'cause that's all that I can do...
I'll face the dawn, try to carry on...try to see each day as new.

Yeah, I'll say so long now "Bull" and carry on...
But sometimes I'll have to stop...and think of you.

daleach

My dear friend Jim called me unexpectedly late one night. There was an edge to his voice. It wasn't a casual call to shoot the breeze. The first thing out of his mouth was, "Griz. are you all right?" "Yeah," I answered, "I'm alright. How about you?" Jim went on to tell me that our mutual friend "Bull" had taken his own life earlier that day. He said that "Bull" and I were similar, in many ways, and that if "Bull" could kill himself, he was worried that I might be able to do the same thing. I was saddened by the news and touched by the love and concern Jim was showing.

Later, on several occasions, we talked about "Bull" and Jim encouraged me to write a song about his death. I worked harder and longer on this song than on any other piece I have ever written. "Epitaph", which appears earlier on this blog page, was also a product of this creative stream. In the end, I was pleased with what came out in tribute and remembrance of "Bull". I believe it is one of the best that I have written and I am blessed to have and have had good friends that elicit my best. DAL