I'm an engine driver
On a long run, on a long run
Would I work beside her?
She's a long one, such a long one
And if you don't love me, let me go
And if you don't love me let me go
I'm a country lineman
On a high line, on a high line
So will be my grandson
There are power lines in our bloodlines
And if you don't love me, let me go
And if you don't love me, let me go
And I am a writer, writer of fictions
I am the heart that you call home
And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
My bones
My bones
I'm a money lender
I have fortunes upon fortunes
Take my hand for tender
I am tortured, ever tortured
And if you don't love me, let me go
And if you don't love me, let me go
And I am a writer, writer of fictions
I am the heart that you call home
And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
I am a writer, I am all that you have home
Home
And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
My bones
My bones
(And if you don't love me, let me go)
And if you don't love me, let me go
(And if you don't love me, let me go)
And if you don't love me, let me go
On a long run, on a long run
Would I work beside her?
She's a long one, such a long one
And if you don't love me, let me go
And if you don't love me let me go
I'm a country lineman
On a high line, on a high line
So will be my grandson
There are power lines in our bloodlines
And if you don't love me, let me go
And if you don't love me, let me go
And I am a writer, writer of fictions
I am the heart that you call home
And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
My bones
My bones
I'm a money lender
I have fortunes upon fortunes
Take my hand for tender
I am tortured, ever tortured
And if you don't love me, let me go
And if you don't love me, let me go
And I am a writer, writer of fictions
I am the heart that you call home
And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
I am a writer, I am all that you have home
Home
And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
My bones
My bones
(And if you don't love me, let me go)
And if you don't love me, let me go
(And if you don't love me, let me go)
And if you don't love me, let me go
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I think that this is a song comprised of several different characters (obviously) with most of the focus given to the writer (who I think is, in some part, Meloy) -- it's very simple with lots of repetition, but I think it comes down to one moral -- All of these people are something by their very nature; it's in their bones, it's who they are, and they're calling out, "If you don't love me let me go" -- or, if you don't love me for who I really am, let me go.
Going deeper, you could look at the writer and think, he's trying to rid this love from his bones, so maybe she's become a part of him (assuming the first person is male, sorry) as well; or, he is becoming a part of her, as in "I am the heart that you call home". Yet, he's just a writer of fictions; he's trying to write her out of his life, but she won't let go.
So they're all people with dilemmas of the heart -- all having to do with the permanent *who* they are perhaps conflicting with their love's perception of them; or anyone's perception of them for that matter.
In any case, it's a beautiful song. Love it.
But the writer doesn't know who he is. He just writes to keep away a person who he loved. He doesn't really have that much of an identity separate from her because whenever he talks about himself, he relates it to this other person.
Just how I see it :-)
Each of the professions he lists in the verses are various parts of being a touring musician.
"engine driver": touring across a country must feel.
"county lineman" or electrician: dealing with the equipment.
"moneylender": the business side of music.
and of course, a writer using fiction to work out a past relationship isn't a stretch of the imagine.
maybe colin's most autobigraphy song.
or i could be completely wrong.
either way, wonderful song.
He keeps writing these stories and pouring himself into these different characters
and no matter who he becomes he still doesn't get the girl.
That said...the engine driver in question is experiencing a feeling that I think five_to_one described best. Hopelessness, but at the same time, something deep inside him ("my bones") just won't let go, no matter what he does to try to get rid of her ("I've written pages upon pages").
in his youth, he is an engine driver - in other words, a railroad engineer. it's not a bad life, but it is indeed a lonely one, with long, isolated shifts. he asks himself if his work is compatible with a life lived alongside the girl he loves. in the final line of the verse, he notes "she's a long one" - is he talking about the shift, or the woman? she's a long shot, either way. the tone here is uncertain, but there's a touch of hope.
later in life, the subject is a lineman; a less rewarding job, perhaps, but more conducive to living as a family man. he's taken up the family trade and left behind his old life. he alludes to having grandchildren here, specifically a grandson. it seems, then, that he is married, although he is still dreaming of this other woman. "there are power lines in our bloodlines," he notes, wondering if his grandson is doomed to the same life he has lived thus far.
an older man, the subject works now as a money lender. he has amassed riches, perhaps from a life of hard and yet ultimately unrewarding work. in his view, life has been unkind to him. perhaps his current spouse is with him only for his money - is he remarrying, or has his marriage always been this unhappy? "take my hand for tender," he says. there's a sense of defeat, and of unrelenting loneliness.
at the end of it all, he recalls his life in writing. perhaps he has written all this time, only intensifying the strength of his unrequited love. he has lived many lives, all of them fictions in a sense; rich, but not the reality he has wanted. in each of them, he hopes that perhaps he will be loved in return. the woman in question has taken root in his heart and in his bones, and try as he might, he can't write her out. perhaps he doesn't want to. note the conditional: "if you don't love me, let me go". is he still holding out for that long shot? he is still looking for the life in which he will be loved in return. he knows he may never find it.
Trying to rid you from my bones"
I get chills every time. :)