I was camping with my kids when I wrote this one, watching the fire and listening to them read in the tent. Little giggles in a warm bed for the night, protected from but still connected to the elements. A wonderful noise. The marshmallows had been scrubbed from little faces and I thought; I want this all the time. I want to pick up and sell everything I own and travel into the old west with my family. I want to spend time walking barefoot in the cool mossy forests and showing my kids what it is to be connected to life. I want them to know that life is rich; so much more than just the two cars in the garage and a mortgage payment. 

A week of bliss and I pack up and head back to cement sidewalks and cookie-cutter houses. 

This is a song of longing. 

Steve Koning played the keys, simple and haunting. Tom McKay played the bass, and I sang. I closed my eyes and sang this in the dark schoolhouse one evening thinking about what it would be like – or could be like – to live like this. “Do whatever is best for me and you, and write a song or two”. 

There is magic in the background vocals. When Tom and I stood in the middle of the schoolhouse and oooooed, we caught that natural ambient noise you can only get in that room. This is the song that got me writing for this album. Sitting by the campfire, I could hear the background vocals and the calm vibe that song would have. 

When I sat down to track the acoustic, Dre told me not to complicate things. “No no, just do those upstrokes (gesturing with his hands playing a pretty good air guitar)… just up up up… and for the chorus don’t do much more. Keep this one really really simple.” I remember Steve playing pretty much only two-note chords. And there it was. 

Simple and pretty.
Let’s start here. 
Where it all begins, where the air seems thin
And I know for sure, that the cool rain wins, Just like it’s always been

I think I’ll go away… go and find the milky way
Get up and chase it into the west
Do whatever’s best for me and you
Write a song or two
And sleep up high in the crows nest. 

The wind will blow, over rock and through the trees, 
Holds back the past of true unease
This one lane road, will send me back to where I came, 
Not quite changed but not the same

Oh and I know every thing will be ok, 
It’s just that I’ve never really had much to say
So I think I may walk to the Hudson bay. 
Just to give my feet some time, and to empty out my mind