Commentary

En route to a 2014 Big Sur songwriting workshop with John Smith I visited—and was touched by--my daughter, Lisa, who provides psychological counseling to high and intermediate school students in Silicon Valley, where waves of teen suicides have drawn national attention.

At the first workshop songwriting assignment I fastened on my feelings around: my conversations with Lisa; the tragedy of young people taking their own lives, throwing themselves in front of trains in several instances; the rippling effects of such actions; my own teen ruminations on death as freedom; of me wanting and hoping to be of use to others in despair.  Suicide prevention is a difficult subject to deal with in song.  I couldn’t let it go or make it work, and the effort messed up my participation in other exercises during the five-day workshop. But I did finally begin this song, which I have since reshaped and rewritten more times than any other.  I thank Steve Seskin for pointing out, a year into my process, a key simplification.  I invite a better singer to perform the song. 

At least I found a metaphor at Big Sur.  The ocean cliffs there are tall and steep, the crashing waves and boulders far below. Lawns at the Esalen Institute extend in places to the edge of these cliffs.  The sturdy, well-crafted guardrails that have been placed along the cliffs’ edge are stunningly beautiful by day.  And by night without a flashlight, walking from the Point House for example, they are a safety essential.  “Near the edge?  Can’t see the path?”  Thankfully, someone has place a guardrail there with love.

Listen

Lyrics

I watch, as up the platform, they joke; you stand apart.
Other people step on board; doors close, the train departs.
Your pain is going nowhere. Your anger’s turned back in.
To you life seems a game that you can’t play or hope to win.

Let me be your guardrail. Here, take my hand.
I have known some dark times. I might understand.
Let me be your guardrail. I am here for you.
Near the edge? Can’t see the path? Hold on:  We’ll make it through. 

You matter, yes you matter and your pain today
Will animate your joy once you set on your way
And strengthen the connection we fortunate can feel --
The shared human condition -- when folks get down and real.

Let me be your guardrail. Here, take my hand.
Lots of us know dark times and might understand.
Let me be your guardrail. I am here for you.
Near the edge? Can’t see the path? Hold on:  We’ll make it through.

Hold on. You’ll make it through.