Through a series of circumstances I recently latched on to an album called ‘The Ill Tempered Klavier’ by singer/songwriter Ben Shive. Ben has worked with Andrew Peterson, one of my favorite artists, and that was part of what led me to this album.
As happens to me too rarely, I was totally blown away by the whole album. I have listened to it over and over and virtually memorized all the songs.
As a service to the internet community, I’m planning to blog the words, as best I can decipher them, to the whole album. This entry gives the words to ‘The Old Man.’ This may not be the saddest song on the album, but it’s definitely in contention, and it’s got one of the great refrains.
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The Old Man, by Ben Shive
The poor old man kept mostly to himself
A book unread and dusty on the shelf
Seeds in packets never sown
The Oldsmobile he barely drove.
In the garden, down on hands and knees
He hurries, taking care that no one sees
The money in the rusty tin;
He lays it in the earth again.
Unless the seed is sown, unless the seed is sown
unless the seed is sown, the flower in it never opens.
The bright young soldier came home from the war
And built this house some sixty years ago.
To win the one his heart dreamed of,
But she could not return his love.
He wept and swore he’d never lose again.
And so he laid his seasons end to end.
Alone behind these quiet walls.
An old man and a withered heart.
Unless the seed is sown, unless the seed is sown,
unless the seed is sown, the flower in it never opens.
