Drive down the road to the Morse code
of the taxi horns, in my crown of thorns
dripping golden blood... if I only could
I’d be rich today. I’d be rich today.
See lovers kiss, speak private bliss;
I walk away, no words to say
out from these lips... if just one slipped
I’d be rich today. I’d be rich today.
Kids in the park, fresh off the ark,
too young to know how hard it goes
for those who try just to stay dry.
If I only knew why, I’d be rich today.
Hold on, hold on, hold on
to the thread of love.
Hold on, hold on, hold on
to the residue of living.
Sex sells, sex kills, sex wells up and nearly fills you
then slips from your hands, and you wonder,
What is this sticky mess? What is this sticky mess?
Freedom sells, freedom kills, freedom wells up
and nearly fills you then slips from your hands,
and you wonder, What is this bloody mess?
You look back and wonder,
What is this bloody mess? Yeah, cuz you know
Winning sells, winners kill, winning wells up and nearly fills you then slips from your hands,
and you wonder, What is this sweaty mess
pooled all around you? What is this sweaty mess?
But still you
Hold on, hold on, hold on
to the residue of success.
Drive down the road.
Don’t feel the cold.
Don’t fix the blame.
Don’t speak the name.
Just do your best,
Let go the rest, and try to
Hold on, hold on, hold on
to the thread of love.
Hold on, hold on, hold on
to the residue of life.
Hold on, hold on, hold on
to the thread of love.
Hold on, hold on, hold on
to the residue of living.
©2001, 2007 Tobin Mueller
Song Notes: The beginning kernal of this song was that clarion trumpet lick at the beginning. The rest just flowed, like something The Dave Matthews Band might conjure up. Another one of those one-song-a-day tunes, I completed the writing, lyrics, singing, recording in one day, then ask my English fiddler friend Martyn Kember-Smith to add his special flourishes via long distance collaboration. A nod goes to Joni Mitchell for the third verse inspiration. I never realized how many songs are titled "Hold On" until I wrote one of my own. By the way, this is as close to rap as I will ever come.
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