at my house on Nebraska Avenue in Nashville, Tennessee
From the Piscataway Basement Tapes CD :
Recorded 1995 at Rubber Ball Studios in North Brunswick, New Jersey.
Alan Horvath: Vocal | Gibson Hummingbird Guitar
Me and my Dad shared everything ... and much of that in the form of conversation. I can remember us talking for as much as 12 hours at a time, with Mom occassionally joining in, while keeping us supplied with various forms of sustenance. In 1989, I flew up to Jersey to see him in his final hours ... his eyes didn't have the same light in them as I was accustomed to seeing ... we exchanged something that no earthly words can describe ... and he passed on.
According to my notebooks, I didn't write anything the year he died ... obviously, that isn't so, but I was a mess that year ... when I returned to Nashville, this song came out. I feel he's talking to me in this song ... telling me there's a whole lot more going on than what we merely witness with our eyes.
There's nothin' wrong with our eyes ... it's just what we believe; what we can't believe.
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