To get to my place from the city by car I drive up a main road through a suburb which is densely populated and consists of block upon block of home unit apartments. Each afternoon, outside one of these blocks of units, an old man sits in a plastic chair watching the traffic pass by. I've always been intrigued by the sadness and loneliness of his vigil and decided to write a song about him. Don't know if my "made up" story is anywhere near the truth or not. For all I know he may be a paedophile or an axe murderer, but I decided to adopt a more charitable approach.
Carol Douglas told me it made her cry, so have a tissue handy just in case.
This is very much a change of pace for me. It certainly would be out of place on my follow up to my NIC CD, so I've decided to add it as a bonus track to the acoustic Tort Stripped Bare CD that I will release shortly.
It's not set in stone so any suggestions for improvment are more than welcome.