A Song for Scott

(written for my friend, Scott McKenzie)


I still see you in jeans
with your deep hazel eyes,
throwing head back in chorus,
face alight to the sky

And you're lost to the song
and alive in regale,
Four Strong Winds blowin' lonely,
dying miner's dark tale

It was Journeymen then
and your tenor was sweet
Lord, your hunger was strong
but you were dead on your feet

With a voice pulled from Heaven
and a heart put through Hell
You gave all that was in you
til The Journeymen fell

Then the theatre called
and you studied the stage
Working hard to be still
through a pivotal age

But when Monterey Popped
and John asked for a song
It was your San Francisco
brought the young folks along

Soon the Mamas and Papas
pulled you onto the road
All the world heard your voice
and for years how it flowed

But your heart, how it struggled
against haunts of the past
And those vile shoulder voices
vicious memories cast

And now ages have rolled
though the music remains
as each bittersweet day
binds the blood in our veins

And we share what forsakes us
and your hazel eyes light
My sweet Journeymen tenor
whispering into the night