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Tributes to Gamble

"The Curve Above the Door" by Douglas Day
Words & Music By: Douglas Day
©1993 Douglas Day/Kite Music (BMI)
As performed by: Douglas Day
On "Barefoot To The Sea" on Kite Music

From the "Barefoot To The Sea" album insert:

Gamble Rogers was a man of feeling, a man sought out by many for his keen, listening ear. Friends in his town of St. Augustine, Florida included musicians and politicians, cooks and caretakers, fishermen and gentlemen who became, in his company, all people of quality and refinement. He came from a great line of architects and had a keen eye for proportion in houses, in boats, in shotguns, and in people.

Listen to "The Curve Above the Door"

The Curve Above The Door

A house must have an entry
A door must have protection
You can’t just jump through a window
Or break down a wall.
A door must have protection
From the rain and wind and weather
And not just be a hole
Where anything can slither in and fall.

We stood in the side yard,
Sizing up the gable.
“Look at the other houses,
The other island houses here…
How did they do it?
The original old-time builders,
How did they choose to keep the warmth within?”

And I’m considering the entry
And the way it should protect you
When the rain and wind and weather
Should not be welcomed in.
How there must be something else there
Like a roof, a bench, a railing
To separate the outside
From the space within.
And here I build a house
To last beyond my lifetime
And try to tell a story
To last a hundred more;
I build it in the memory
Of a man of understanding;
Bear with me if I labor on
The curve above the door.

On the porch he held the guitar
Like a preacher holds a Bible,
Like a farmer holds a plowblade
And a whetstone to glide;
His thumbpick like the whetstone
Turning steel to music
Bringing up the edge
Of the story held inside.

And he played it in the kitchen
Where I’m storing these provisions
For the serving of the dinners
To give us more than food;
In this story there’s an adult
Not frightened by the title
Of husband and provider,
Responsible and good.

And I’m designing my whole house
Like you’d design the scenery
For a stage and a story
You’d always hoped to find:
Where she’d want to be with you
When you wanted just to hold her
And she’d want to go solo
When you wanted just to hide.

And here I build a house
To last beyond my lifetime
And try to tell a story
To last a hundred more;
I build it in the promise
Of discerning conversation;
Bear with me if I linger on
The curve above the door.

This is the song I wanted
To write sometime last summer,
A song to say to Gamble
That I sought him like I did;
I who once had a father
Who also held a guitar
Who taught me how to play it
So I’d never want to quit.
But last summer was too soon
As if I really thought he’d show up
Anyway, even though we all knew
He was physically gone;
So now that he didn’t
And the photograph shows him sitting
On the porch in the rocker
Holding the guitar.
I can tell him I’ve decided
On a small porch with an awning
And two benches facing inward
Wide enough for two guitars;
Just a small porch with an awning
And two benches facing inward
Wide enough for two:
Each one holding a guitar.
And here I build a house
To last beyond my lifetime
And try to tell a story
To last a hundred more;
The model is the man
Who crossed the veil of footlights;
Whose fabled conversation
Deepened all our songs.



© Steady Arm Music.