Ben Crane - Drums, Strings
Frank Peters - Vocals
Fifty miles from nowhere is where I'm at at any given time. Nowhere is where everything else is at. I was living in Haida Gwaii at the time this song was written. It is a collection of feelings and visions of where I was at at the time. I named the song Haida Gwaii because in my mind, it evokes the wonderful memories of the islands. It is truly one of the most beautiful places in the world.
Oh I'm sitting on the edge of, fifty miles from nowhere,
The fog is hanging low like an old patchwork quilt.
The moon ain't shining bright, the stars arn't out tonight.
And I'm just sitting on the edge of, fifty miles from nowhere.
Hear the crying of the gulls as they glide above the ocean
Feel the cool salt breeze as it rolls in from the sea.
In the distance hear the breakers as they mark the pass of time.
On a wild distant shore, fifty miles from nowhere.
Here the rustling of the pines with the breeze upon the branches.
Hear the croaking of the frogs as they sit beneath the rushes.
Hear the screeching of a nighthawk as upon a mouse he pounces.
Life goes on, fifty miles from nowhere.
This is the first day of the last, fifty miles from nowhere.
See the new green grass, fifty miles from nowhere.
See the sun a shimmering off a little mossy creek.
In this memory of the past, fifty miles from nowhere.
Tag last line:
Yea, memories of the past, fifty miles from nowhere.
© March, 1973, Nov 2012 by Francis H. Peters