Charlie and the Dead Guy

I crashed my car
Into a tree
Right near Charlie's house

I was coming back
From a gig I was playing
At the Rusty Roof
Three cities over

I was either sixteen or seventeen at the time
But to be honest with you
I can't remember which

I stopped counting years
After I stopped going to school

I thought I was going to be the next great
High-school-drop-out-rock-star
And maybe I would have been
If that tree hadn't jumped
In front of my car

I wasn't drunk or speeding
I was just tired
But tired was enough
To send me packing

I don't remember the car hitting the tree
I just remember the sound

So loud

I guess you could hear it
Three blocks down

I waited to hear a siren

I figured if I was still alive
When I heard the siren
Then I might make it
At least to the hospital

Then I thought
It was kind of fitting

Dying in my car
With my guitar
In the trunk

Damn, I thought
I hope my guitar's not all banged up

Funny what you worry about
When you're about to stop existing

I thought my old man
Sitting on his ripped up recliner
Sipping a beer
Getting a knock on the door
Letting him know
His kid finally fucked up
One time too many

He'd probably finish the beer
Before he'd bother to cry

I remember feeling lost in my body
At one point

Some people would probably say they felt out of their body
But I just felt lost in mine

Like I was going through my arms
And my head
And my feet
And I couldn't find my way out

Then I felt something touch my arm
And I heard somebody yelling
And then I felt breath

Like when somebody breathes in your ear

Except I don't think that's what happened
I think I just took my last one

Then I was out of it
Like, totally out of it
Like standing twenty feet away
From the crash

Watching some kid
Try to yank the door off the car
And get me out

I remember knowing his name
Even though I think I only saw him at school
Once or twice
Before I stopped going

Charlie

I said--'Charlie, stop'

I went over to him
Kind of just--floated
Sort of--just passed onto him
And said--

'Charlie, get away from the car.  It's over, Charlie, it's over.'

But he kept yanking on the door
Putting his foot up against it
Shouting at me
To wake up

Then I see this other kid
His brother, I guess
Run out of the house
And grab him
Start pulling him away

And Charlie's yelling
That there's somebody in there
There's somebody in there

And in the meantime
I'm looking down
And my hands are Charlie's hands
And my eyes are Charlie's eyes
And I see the car
And I know

I know I'm gone

I didn't stay with Charlie
But I remember feeling very human
For the next fifty years orso

It's a little like in a movie
When the camera's panning over the ocean
And then it lifts up
And you see the sun

The next time I looked up
I was holding my guitar in my hands
And it was good as new

I was sitting in a hospital room
And an old man was in a bed
Holding the hand of a young woman
I assumed was his daughter

It was Charlie

The last person who touched me
When I was alive
And now here I was
To see him off

I played a few chords
And hummed a little bit
Wondering if the music
Would make it easier
For him to get out of his body

Then it happened

I felt that breath against me again
And I knew he was going to be okay

After Charlie left
I sat with his daughter for a little bit

Then a nurse came in
And the daughter left
To do some paperwork

I hung around for a little bit
To see if Charlie was going to show up
Somewhere outside the room
Or floating outside the window
Like I'd done
When I stepped outside the crash

But I guess Charlie didn't have as restless a spirit as I did

I guess that's what happens when you die young

So I picked up my guitar
And let my body
Become something like a tornado
But calm, but calm

I saw time become the ocean again
And I saw trees become tall then small then tall again
And I saw my dad drink himself to death
And I saw my guitar sit in a basement
Until someone bought the house
And gave it to their daughter
Who learned to play it
And turned out to be a way better guitarist than I ever was

I saw my life go out like a spilled glass of water
Going farther than you ever think it could

And I saw it overlap and connect and distort
And evaporate
And reappear
And twist around like that tornado
Over and over again

Taking in so much with it

I saw Charlie's face
The first time he saw death

I saw how scared he was
And I wanted to say--

'It's oka, Charlie.  It's sad, and it's too soon, but it's done, and it's okay.  It's really okay.'

The sad thing
He probably didn't realize that
Until he felt his daughter holding his hand
And he felt that breath
Tap on his neck

You know the weird part?

I never heard those sirens

Never

I just kept waiting
And waiting
And waiting