James Taylor turns himself into a literary character; he is an interesting mess, over and over again.
Every now and then, the things I lean on lose their meaning.
And I find myself careening--into places where I should not let me go.
She has the power to go where no one else can find me--
Yes, and to silently remind me of the happiness and good times that I know.
Even in a celebratory mood, as he considers his baby daughter, Taylor mocks himself:
Isn't it amazing a man *like me* can feel this way?
Tell me how much longer--it can grow stronger--everyday...?
At times, Taylor has been an addict, close to death--and yet he has a writer's coolness, a way of dissecting a thing that others wouldn't want to touch:
Won't you look down upon me, Jesus?
You gotta help me make a stand.
You just got to see me through another day.
My body's aching, and my time is at hand.
I won't make it any other way.
Taylor senses how lost we all are--and he has some fun with this situation. He enjoys the catastrophe of two neurotic people in love: "Go away, then. Damn you. Go on and do as you please. You ain't gonna see me getting down on my knees....I'm undecided...Your heart's been divided...."
It's not news that this guy is a great writer. But I think his gentle voice sometimes "papers over" the boldness of his words. He is an inspiration to me.
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