The Long Retreat

from The Duck Hunter by Bill Foreman

/

lyrics

The pine trees abound.
There's snow on the ground.
My feet make no sound
When I'm walking.
There's pressure on my eyes.
I'm getting weak in my thighs.
Beneath these frigid, gray skies,
I'm flooded with memories.
Almost three years ago,
As my former in-laws know,
My mind drifted to and fro
And I left here.
One summer morning I ran,
Or, rather, took my old van.
To then become a full man
Was my resolution.

When I came to the retreat
In the August heat.
I quickly learned it was sweet
To cry on shoulders.
I was wrapped in warm arms
Away from sources of harm
We spoke of fishing and farms
To connect to the earth.
As the months drifted by,
I continued to cry.
I'd been trained in my eye
To respond so.
As new faces arrived,
The long retreat still thrived.
We thanked God we were alive
For another two years.

One night I lay in my bed.
I seemed healed in the head,
Or, rather, something had fled
From my motivation
And the thought grew within
As I examined my bretheren:
Our type of patter was akin
To highway robbery.
There's my house on the lake.
I made a terrible mistake.
I took a much-needed break
But the wrong one.
And if I had knew then
About the company of men,
I'd have taken my pen
And written it off.

credits

from The Duck Hunter, released January 1, 1998

license

all rights reserved

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about

Bill Foreman Los Angeles, California

Bill began developing his approach to song and recording in 1986. Bill recorded his first solo album, "The Bathroom Mirror," in 1997 on a portable Walkman recorder. In December, 2015, Bill released “Funeral Hymns and Outlaw Ballads,” a compilation of his work. Bill’s most recent record, “The Bliss-Chasers,” came out in August, 2016. ... more

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