Apropos of nothing, I was running
Me and Bobby McGee through my head the other day when it occurred to me that it's the best love lyric -- or lovelorn lyric -- I can think of. It has everything. The sharp in-the-moment snapshot:
With them windshield wipers slapping time
and Bobby clapping hands,
we finally sang near every song that driver knew.
The big-picture zoom-out:
From the coal mines of Kentucky
to the California sun,
Bobby shared the secrets of my soul,
standing right beside me Lord through
everything I've done,
Bobby's body kept me from the cold.
And, above all, the keenest lament in songdom:
And I'd trade all of my tomorrows
for a single yesterday,
feeling Bobby's body close to mine.
That's not abject, it's not maudlin -- it's just the sum of human despair.
