Inspiring Enchantment & Illumination with Tarot & Intuitive Guidance

The Days Between: Aug. 1 – Aug. 9

Atlanta, 3/31/94 ©John Rottet
The Days Between
by Robert Hunter, Jerry Garcia

There were days
And there were days

And there were days between.

Summer flies and August dies

And the world grows dark and mean.

Comes the shimmer of the moon

On black infested trees,

The singing man is at his song

The holy on their knees.

The reckless are out wrecking,

The timid plead their pleas.

No one knows much more of this

Than anyone can see,

Anyone can see.

There were days
There were days

And there were days besides,

When phantom ships with phantom sails

Set to sea on phantom tides

Comes the lightning of the sun

On bright unfocused eyes,

The blue of yet another day

A springtime wet with sighs.

A hopeful candle lingers

In the land of lullabies,

Where headless horsemen vanish

With wild and lonely cries,

Lonely cries.

There were days,
There were days,

And there were days I know,

When all we ever wanted

Was to learn and love and grow.

Once we grew into our shoes,

We told them where to go,

Walked halfway around the world

On promise of the glow.

Stood upon a mountain top,

Walked barefoot in the snow,

Gave the best we had to give,

How much, we’ll never know,

We’ll never know.

There were days,
There were days

And there were days between.

Polished like a golden bowl,

The finest ever seen.

Hearts of Summer held in trust,

Still tender, young and green,

Left on shelves collecting dust

Not knowing what they mean.

Valentines of flesh and blood

As soft as velveteen,

Hoping love would not forsake

The days that lie between,

Lie between.

Sleep in the stars, Jerry.
August 1, 1942 – Aug. 9, 1995

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