The Meanings and Metaphors of “Cold Hard Canyon”

The wind can blow hard in the canyon
When the cold air falls from the sky

When our Arizona monsoons build an anvil out of a cloud it gathers cold air that eventually falls, sometimes at over a hundred miles an hour creating a down-burst of air that is turbulent and violent. The past few years has brought age and great pain to my body that feels at times like an ice cold blast of air is coursing through my body.

I can still feel your heart beating
And taste your warm lips in my sighs

I still feel my youth. It hasn’t disintegrated or disappeared yet, though I suspect it will one day in the no longer distant future. It is something I am trying to accept, fight off, defend and deny all at the same time… usually in this condition I reflexively let out a unconscious sigh.

My lantern is starting to flicker
As the lightening and thunder do clash

I have come to realize that the light at the end of this tunnel really is a train, and it is on its way to run me over somewhere in the unknown future. This again creates a polarization of energy in me that feels like lightning and thunder.

The cactus has ripped my old slicker
As the lantern’s obscured by the sky

As my joints have worn out and arthritis has taken a hold of my knees and my wrists (making it very hard to play the guitar and dance) it feels like cactus needles poking into my flesh. At times like this I find it very hard to bring forth the virility and youthful feeling that still resides in my bones.

Whoopee tie yie yo get along little doggies
I’ve got a long way to go
Whoopee tie yie yo get along little doggies
Tucson was never your home

I have know for too many years that the earth and my current physicality is temporary, thus, “Tucson Was Never Your Home”. This makes me feel like I need to whip things into a frenzy around me because time is running out. Oh I may have decades still to live (or may not), but my youth is dissipating and I feel like I need to capture all of the moments I can before it is all gone. There are so many things I still want to do. “Let’s dance, come on get that right! Turn it on let’s go!” At times I feel bad for Joanne, because since I drive myself so hard, even though I try not to, as her dance partner, I sometimes drive her too hard as well.

The storm makes the cattle so restless
The darkness makes them hard to read

When I slip out of the brilliant light of my own existence I almost always screw something up and make a mess. I slip into the darkness that resides in my artist and I lose track of what and who is real sometimes and it begins to feel like everything is dark, even though it is only me that I can take in or out of the light.

So I’m sitting low in the saddle
Praying that they don’t stampede

Sometimes in a crowd, I withdraw into myself for fear I will say the wrong thing and piss someone off. Too often I am quite frank in my observations, and I have a knack for being observant.

I’m holding a torch for your love here
Like a match in a cold hurricane

I have come to learn that even though love is abundant, it is not always easy to keep a relationship together, consequently I hold my love for Joanne in the highest of esteem I honor and guard it like a knight errant wanting to preserve and hold it sacred for as long as we may freely love one another.

My light is a bright yellow lantern
That’s pelted by cold winter rain

There is that dimming light again. I am trying so hard to accept the inevitability of my aging without capitulating to becoming the same old man my elders were. I am determined to stay in shape to the best my body and pains will allow, but lately the pain is frequently making me back away from a strain as I workout.

Repeat Chorus…

I look through the night to tomorrow
Seeing the depth of your soul

I see Joanne and how she loves me, she loves my artist, all of him. I have never been so fully accepted by any other person. I feel for her, she didn’t choose a rich man, or a successful business man that put money away for his old age. I worry sometimes that I will not be able to provide what she needs as she ages… and then she shows me once again, that not only is she capable of taking care of her own future, she loves me just as I am and she happily shares all she has with me.

Knowing I’d beg steal or borrow
To warm you when you are cold

Repeat Chorus…

Thank you for loving me Joanne, I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe, happy and well traveled!

I love you Joanne Lee Canalli!