Chicago

How many roadies before me
Have stayed in this very room?
How many have stayed up far too late
And skated the channels without hope
Of their women turning the lights off
Or closing the day by rolling over
Half awake, somewhat annoyed at him
For still being awake and keeping her up…

How many holidays have been spent by them
Away from their home and their kin?
How many of their wives and their girls
Wondered if next time they’d be home
And if they can stand being alone again
Decorations unseen, meals unmade
The love still strong, the longing building
The telephone just won’t do…

How many before me felt gratitude
Through the sad moments in this room?
How many took the time to consider
That life was good and the day was good
The job wasn’t your life and you can jump off
And life could be good and fear can be temporary
Or that all this can work with love and attention
And just learning to simply say no?

How many people are far from the hearth
The warmth and the calm that it holds
The hug after dinner, the kiss at the sink,
The touch goodnight under the sheets?
How many yearn to be home tonight
And every night they’re away?