Leader Of The Band

by Dan Fogelberg

A lonely child, alone and wild, a cabinet-maker's son.   His hands were meant for different work And his heart was known to none.  He left his home and went his lone and solitary way, And he gave to me a gift I know I never could repay.

A quiet man of music denied a simpler fate.  He tried to be a soldier once but his music wouldn't wait.  Yearned his love through discipline, a thundering velvet hand.  His gentle means of sculpting souls took me years to understand.

The leader of the band is tired and his eyes are growing old.  But his blood runs through my instrument, and his song is in my soul.  My life has been a poor attempt to imitate the man.  I'm just a living legacy to the leader of the band.

My brothers' lives were different for they heard another call.  One went to Chicago and the other to St. Paul, and I'm in Colorado when I'm not in some hotel.  Living out this I've chose and come to know so well.

I thank you for the music and your stories of the road.  I thank you for the freedom when it came my time to go.  I thank you for the kindness and the times when you got tough.  And, Papa, I don't think I said I love you near enough.

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