canyon





BB Notes

This is a sentimental favorite in that it's the first song I wrote for the new CD.

It started one night getting home from a "first date".  If that isn't traumatic enough, it was the first date since deciding to not move forward with a long-standing relationship.  Though I was at peace with not moving ahead, there was of course familiarity, care and love.  Leaving that behind sucks!  Can I get an amen?!

Before this night, I had recently connected with Staci Frenes about trying some co-writing.  We had a couple good phone dialogues and felt I could trust her.  So I got home from my date, and emailed her my frustration, saying among other things, "How do you choose a spark over a flame?".  That ironically became the first line of the song. 

When writing for this CD, God was calling me out of my comfort zone to a new place.  I was willing, but not quite ready for the big leap yet.  So if you are contemplating a similar move, this one's for you.  Think of "Canyon" as your 'packing-your-bags' song.

And not to get ahead of you and the song, but I'm on the other side of the canyon now.  And it's better.

Lyrics

How do you choose a spark over a flame?
When the flame has kept you warm
And the spark may not be safe
But how do you stop a heart from wanting to change?
To follow when the wind calls you by name
The lull of the familiar has held me here too long
So I'm gathering my strength and moving on

The canyon between
Here and where you're calling me
Seems so wide, looks so deep
But I know that I can't stay
To become all that I can be
Canyon's wide, but hope runs deep tonight

How do you measure hope filling a heart?
When it overwhelms the fear
And illuminates the dark
Into the light of day, now I believe
A better way is waiting there for me
Memories familiar are slowly growing dim
And I don't need to turn around again

Chorus

Standing on the edge I can see the other side
Standing on the edge I can feel the other side
Standing on the edge I can see the other side
I feel the other side

Chorus

© 2008  Staci Frenes/Brian Bates