From the recording I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING: An Album in Three Acts
IN THE HOUR OF HIS LEAVING (Music and Lyric by Louis Rosen)
In the hour of his leaving, he’ll shake his head and wonder why he stayed in this forsaken place for oh, so many years. There won’t be any fanfare, there won’t be any thunder — just lines well etched upon a face, without a trace of tears — In the hour of his leaving.
In the hour of his leaving, no time for self-reflection, no denying luck that came his way, or where his failures live. Some people and some places, he’ll think of with affection. He said the things he had to say, and gave what he could give — In the hour of his leaving.
Years conflate. Past and present are felt as one. Man’s estate — four score years, yet we feel not nearly done.
In the hour of his leaving, he’ll give his full attention to his love, who travels with him, and like him, travels blind. There’s hope in new perspective; joy in reinvention; and he who’s busy living can embrace what he may find — In the hour of his leaving… In the hour of his leaving
© 2020 by Louis Rosen/Lullwater Music, ASCAP. All rights reserved.