All Along the Watchtower

Originally written June 2, 2007

Take us far, far away, bring me back to where we belong. There must be some kind of way out of here.

You can feel it building inside, quietly at first in the background, more prevalent as the night goes on. We are nothing if not lost in the clouds. That familiar sound we hoped to hear again, our love lost over so much time, the red and the black all over again. And they were gone, the joker and the thief, just like that, forgotten to another world where we no longer tread. They would dance and play in the streets, and they would call our name, and never again would there be another like us. For you and I have lived through this, but we know this was not our fate.

Everywhere I go the ghosts continue to follow me. An eclipse of the dark side of the moon could not keep our companions at bay. They come to me in waves once again, each silent voice speaking volumes greater than the next. Nothing was forgotten, and nothing was forgiven, as they again would make their presence felt. Speak to me, breath in the air, whisper to me from beyond the dreams I have been left with. A thousand voices wash over me at once; there is just too much confusion in here.

What began as a downward spiral three years ago was thought to have been laid to rest after finding our Serenity. A Momentary Lapse of Reason it would prove to have been. Evermore was Reloaded, Evermore was abandoned. The purpose and promise of our confessions had been fulfilled; and our story had come to an end.

And I can’t get no relief. Somewhere buried beneath the streets of Hong Kong laid the stories of the joker and thief. It was not over yet. Bring it back. There was no going back. Bring it back. We were never supposed to make it back.