SUCH A CRIME

I wish I had a porch that we could swing on

All back and forth there in the evening breeze

Or maybe just a view outside my window

Just watching as the wind blows through the trees.

Instead, I keep the house stuffed up

To keep the sound of traffic from our ears.

It’s such a crime

This country boy’s been locked inside this city

Now for years.

I sit at work behind a desk and wonder

If the sun’s gone down tonight outside these walls.

I hear the elevator’s lonely thunder

As I wind my way down long fluorescent halls.

The sidewalk’s such a lonely place

With everybody banking on their fears.

It’s such a crime

This country boy’s been shut inside this city

Now for years.

The trains here take you underground

through town down through the factories and the mills

instead of rollin’ strong through towns

set nestled like a painting in the hills.

The city’s such a hard won place

with all the bodies waiting on your tears.

It’s such a crime

This country boy’s been stuck inside this city

Now for years.

words & music by Brad Riesau

©1984 Brad Riesau / v32unes

original 4-track version released on BRAD RIESAU - v32unes

rtRECORDS v32-001 (cassette only) / released 12/25/84

From original liner notes: I love the way John Anderson (not the politician, nor the guy from YES but the country singer) sings ballads and his tune “Swingin’” got me excited about front porches. I thought I’d sit down and write one for him. Written in November 1984.