I’m a great fan of this fabulous folk musician,
this extraordinary composer and balladist.
I picture him singing with the Irish bard-kings of old,
long before they faded into the mist.
His songs make me feel like I’ve lived through the story
he’s telling with each new breath.
He’s immortalized stories of life and of glory,
and moved a generation to mourn death.
No matter how sad, hectic or intense my day,
the sound of his voice always makes me smile.
And my foot has a life of it’s own when he plays,
I truly like his style.
I first heard his music when I was a young,
and put his records on my Christmas lists,
and I’ve often wondered just when and how,
and by which artistic muse he’s been kissed.
He’s become a close companion
while I’m traveling distant shores.
He’s given me a piece of home to take with
that reaches deep inside my core.
So now, no matter how glad or strenuous my day,
the sound of his music always makes me while.
And it feels like I’ve got a direct line to home,
with more clarity than I’ve ever dialed.
This tribute doesn’t do him justice,
but it’s the only way that I know how.
So Mr. Lightfoot, if you’re listening,
thanks for the WOW!
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