Edward Benz, 27 Times - La Dispute

I heard the old man’s voice break

Stutter once then stop it

I heard a sentence started confidently

Halted by the sudden absence of a word

Stumbled and he sputtered trying to find it back

Something once so simple, gone now

When he finally gave up, told me:

«Aw, it’s like hell getting old»

When you came into the store

Did you know you’d show me your scars?

I had a heavy heart, he carried a door

Its shattered pane all wrapped in plastic

And he asked if I could fix it

Come by a little later, help him put it back on hinges

«See, I’m far too old to lift it, and it’s not for my house

It’s my son’s»

When you opened up the door

What is it you thought you’d find?

(Nobody flinch)

Later I came by and backed into the driveway

Got out to find him waiting there

To lead me through the side yard to

Back behind the house where the doorframe stood empty

And helped me keep it steady while I hammered all the pins in

Then, later on the porch we somehow got to talking

He told me of the house and how his son is schizophrenic

So they purchased it for him

The medication working and they figured

It would help him fit in — help him lead a normal life

But the pills made him sleep too much

And he couldn’t keep a job as a result

So, one day, he just gave up on taking them

And that day she had called you

He’d locked her outside of the house

How quickly did you get there?

And what were you thinking while walking up?

What fears flashed in front of you, taunted you

Walking to unlock the door?

I remember it, Ed, that story you told me

Came back clear tonight, here while writing

And you should know the feeling never left me

The weight of my heart, when you showed me the scars on your arms

When I looked in your eyes and I heard what you said

How you probably would’ve died were it not

For to care for your daughter and wife

How he drove in the knife, still your son

How you seemed to look through me to some old projector screen

Playing back the scene as you described it on a movie reel

As real as the minute when it happened

That memory moving behind me

That moment that changed you for good

And he drove to the house and pulled into the driveway

Got out to find his wife waiting, frantic

She’d come by to check, found that pillbox was empty

Went out to the pharmacy to fill up his prescription

And came back to a locked door and could not get back in She’d knocked and

she’d knocked but he wasn’t responding

You put the key into the lock and turned it

Felt the bolt slide away, slowly open

Went into the hall, his son held a knife

Standing off in the shadows, lunged forward and tackled him

Stabbing him over and over and breaking that window

He fled up the staircase

The ambulance came, stitched and filled him with blood

While the cops took his son with his wires so tangled

His father was a stranger

And I sit in my apartment

I’m getting no answers

I’m finding no peace, no release from the anger

I leave it at arms length

I’m keeping my distance from hotels and Jesus and blood on the carpet

I’m stomaching nothing

I’m reaching for no one

I’m leaving this city and I’m headed out to nowhere

I carry your image

Your grandfather’s coffin

And Ed, if you hear me, I think of you often

That’s all I can offer

That’s all that I know how to give