The Poetry of Marc W. McCord

The Rivers of Life
A Song by Marc W. McCord
(C) March 8, 2002

There's a river running through Sattler, Texas where I go.
And she runs all the way on down to the Gulf of Mexico.
She is lined with Cypress, Pecans and tall Oak trees,
And that is where this heart of mine has staked its claim.

On a sun shiny day in springtime I would go
With my Old Town to a put-in on River Road.
And I would spend a day running rapids down to Gruene
And forget about a world of troubles in my life.

Lady Guadalupe is a mirror of my world.
Sometimes she's tame; other times she pulls me in.
She's a perfect analogy for the life that I have led.
And I learned to love the good and how to face the bad.


I paddle the river and rapids like I paddle the rivers of life,
Never knowing what is just around the next big turn.
Some mistakes I made just once and others I made twice.
After all these years you'd think that I would learn.


There's a flood running through my heart now that you are gone.
What seemed so perfect turned out to be a ghost.
Emotions ran high and regretful things were said,
Now a love do dear is forever lost.

Like the river, our love was so gentle and so warm,
Then it turned into a torrent before we saw it come.
Now I'm lost and drifting in the currents of my days
And it looks like it won't be long before the end.


I paddle the river and rapids like I paddle the rivers of life,
Never knowing what is just around the next big turn.
Some mistakes I made just once and others I made twice.
After all these years you'd think that I would learn.


Oh Melynda, where did we ever go so wrong?
How could these pools turn into rapids than sank our love?
Lady Guadalupe, I need for you to know
That here is where my heart will finally meet the end.


I paddle the river and rapids like I paddle the rivers of life,
Never knowing what is just around the next big turn.
Some mistakes I made just once and others I made twice.
After all these years you'd think that I would learn.
Some mistakes I made just once and others I made twice.
After all these years you'd think that I would learn.


The Poetry of Marc W. McCord

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Marc W. McCord dba CobraGraphics
March 8, 2002


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Last updated June 13, 2004