Time changes things.

Like the fruit stand

 

that turns into a filling station.

But the footprints and signs

 

from the past are everywhere.

They've been fighting over this land

 

since the first Spanish missionaries

showed the Indians the benefits

 

of religion, horses,

 

and a few years of forced labour.

 

The Indians had it right all along.

 

They respected ghosts.

 

You can't forget the past

 

any more than you can change it.

 

Hearing name

 

started me thinking about

 

old secrets, family, property,

 

and a guy doing his partner dirt.

 

Memories are like that -

 

as unpredictable as nitro,

 

and you never know

 

what's gonna set one off.

 

The clues that keep you on track

 

are never where you look for them.

 

They fall out of the pocket

 

of somebody else's suit

 

you pick up at the cleaners.

 

In the tune you can't stop humming,

 

that you never heard in your life.

 

They're at the wrong number you dial

 

in the middle of the night.

 

The signs are in

 

those old familiar places

 

you only think

 

you've never been before.

 

But you get used to seeing them

 

out of the corner of your eye,

 

and you end up tripping over the ones

 

that are right in front of you.

 

 

The Two Jakes <<

 

I O