Doc Mills

From the North

THe lines on my face...

There are title tracks, and there are guiding hands. “Broken November” is the latter. No song captures the force that drove the songs on this record more than this one, because it is derived from a raw moment that set the entire direction of the project that became “When the World Ends.” Strangely, it was one of the last songs that I wrote for this collection. It was always there, guiding the others, until I finally let it out.

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Broken November

It's three in the morning
And the colors are roaring
Not doing so good again
So I walk the worn path
Down the hallway and back
Past the room where you undressed

In the blink of an eye
Maybe yours, maybe mine
We lose ground to time again
And the lines on my face
Form a map of your grace
But they can’t tell me where you went

When you close your eyes
May you see these walls every time
And ever remember our broken November
Unbound, undone, unkind

In the thick of it all
At the end of the fall
Take a shot at last call again
And I know I can’t stay
So I take the long way
Back to where I made my stand

I get through the nights alright
Close my eyes in the rising light
The jar is empty, I guess that’s alright
It’s filling me up
It’s filling me up

In the blink of an eye
Maybe yours, maybe mine
We surrender to wine again
And we drink to the past
From a half-dirty glass
To honor the people we’ve been