I’ll Be Here In The Morning - Erika Ryann

Original by Townes Van Zandt

This was my first time recording my slide guitar playing so… be kind.

- Saturday at twelve o'clock in the afternoon I get to leave my house on my own accord. Unfortunately I still have to leave the Rolex on until next Thursday, but it won’t control my whereabouts any longer.

First order of business: I’m getting the blazes out of this filthy city. I’m loading up one of my favorite cameras (a 1920’s medium format brownie to be exact) and I’m truckin’ my ass out to the country. That farm has my name written all over it. I was told this morning that the property is now covered in snow and I’ve been grinning like a kid all day thinking about it… In fact I was thinking tonight as I was walking home that a lot of things having to do with that place make me smile. Out loud. Teeth and all, and I catch myself like it’s an accident. That has to be worth something. Even if it is just for now.

I know that almost everything in my current situation is extremely temporary. Places I frequent and people who surround me will become use-to-be’s in the not too distant future. Subconscious motivations that drive me and seem so strong now will become the very last of my desires as new worries and challenges take their place. I’m in a waiting room and my current company is Ms. Nothinglasts, Mr. Enjoyitwhileyoucan about to see Dr. Youwillonlygrowfromthis. I know exactly where I am, more than anything by way of knowing that I won’t be here long.

“I’ll be here in the morning

Close your eyes, I’ll be here for a while…”

I’ve done a lot of disappearing this year. To those I care about who don’t know me well, it might seem unfair or as though I never think of you. I never forget you. I fall asleep away from you but in dreams I run around endlessly exploring by your side, finding every opportunity to tell you I love you still and that I am here if you need to run.

* * *

The highway’s call to me is louder than any rhythmic heartbeat set to the impossible task of keeping time with me, keeping me in time. My heart flutters and rattles and pounds until I let it out. There is no steady beat, only a constant lust for miles and miles of honky tonks to play and freedom. Miles and miles of freedom…

But for now, aw’ close your eyes…

I’ll be here in the morning.

Goodnight,

E.R.