This is a letter from a young writer to Andrew Rose
I'm sitting here at this typewriter by myself
In a house that my family's about to sell
Writing you a letter that I'll probably never send
I guess some things are better left unsaid
I'm sitting here at this typewriter by myself
In a house that my family's about to sell
Everything comes to pass us by when it's old
We might both die young
But doesn't every kid dream of camp
Sunshine beneath a ceiling fan
The sweat of sunscreen between your hands
The never ending dream you kept in your heart
And a roommate who talks to himself in the dark
With all the wonders of a top bunk twin bed
When there's not much that you've crossed off your bucket list yet
Cuz you've got big dreams
But when you're 16
Everything feels like a misstep
And if I knew what I know now, I'd go back again
Cram all my summer clothes into that Volkswagen van
Clear the coffeehouse floor out, let's old fashioned dance
...show me how to hold back my hands when I don't have a chance
Clearly there's nothing but love guiding
If those parts of us are gone for good, I hope they come find us
Someday
I hope our confines can unwind
Thinking back
On how the sun rises
For young writers
As I'm sitting here at this typewriter by myself
In a house that my family's about to sell
Writing you a letter that I'll probably never send
I guess some things are better left unsent
I'm sitting here at this typewriter by myself
In a house that my family's about to sell
Everything comes to pass us by when it's old
We might both die young, but the songs we write won't!
Andrew Rose
Where'd you go
I know you're out there
Somewhere
Buried in the
Snow
I know you've got a whole lot of heaviness you hold
In the shape of your guitar case, you duck taped it closed
No matter how brave you are, there are dark days to go
So may the light of a dead rock star take you home
They say that true explorers never settle on the road
You taught me how to write songs, and that's everything I know
As I'm sitting here
At this typewriter
Trying to find faith
Inside of myself
The only place I won't let time change
We'd dive in "Hard Rain..." and how Ray's "Burn" bridges
And how the sun won't go down, without your forgiveness
When a young girl gave me a rainbow, life turned vivid
Ten years later, I'm still trying to paint the world with it
That time hasn't survived, and it's fine, but it's tough lying
Thinking back on how high the sun rises for young writers
As I'm sitting here at this typewriter by myself
In a house that my family's about to sell
Writing you a letter that I'll probably never send
I guess some things are better left unsaid
I'm sitting here at this typewriter by myself
In a house that my family's about to sell
Everything comes to pass us by when it's old
We might both die young, but the songs we write won't!
Andrew Rose
Where'd you go
I know you're out there
Somewhere
Buried in the
Snow
I know you've got a whole lot of heaviness you hold
In the shape of your guitar case, it's our weight in gold
No matter how brave you are, there are dark days to go
So may the light of a dead rock star take you home
That summer in Virginia is still swollen in my soul
You taught me how to write songs and that's the only thing I know
As I'm sitting here at this typewriter by myself
In a house that my family's about to sell
Everything comes to pass us by when it's old
We might both die young, but the songs we write won't!
As I'm sitting here at this typewriter by myself
In this house that my family's about to sell
Everything comes to pass us by when it's old
But we can live forever
In the stories that we've told
Andrew Rose