Track 8 of the album Four Lines on the Back of a Postcard · 2021
Running Behind Without Letting Go
“A small red bicycle and the hand that lets go of the saddle. The strings run behind it and never quite catch up.”
neoclassical · neoclassical · chamber ballad · 3:43
Lyrics
A small red bicycle, a wobbling line A driveway tilted toward the afternoon My hand is on the saddle, hers on the bars And the whole wide street is humming a tune She says don't let go, I say I won't The chain is clicking like a pocket watch I feel the weight of her leaning toward the world And I hold on a little, a little, and watch I'm running behind without letting go Then letting go without a sound She pedals out into the gold And I stand still on the ground Every road she'll ever ride Began here, wobbling, bright I'm running behind, then standing here And the world is full of light She doesn't know my hand has gone She thinks I'm right behind her still The wind has taken up the work Across the garden and the hill I'm running behind without letting go Then letting go without a sound She pedals out into the gold And I stand still on the ground Every road she'll ever ride Began here, wobbling, bright I'm running behind, then standing here And the world is full of light She turns to look, she wobbles once She laughs, and finds her balance there The oldest lesson that I know Is how to hold her with the air I'm running behind without letting go Then letting go without a sound She circles back into my arms Her two wheels on the ground Every road she'll ever ride Began here, wobbling, bright I ran behind, then let her fly And the world is full of light Run behind, let go And watch her ride