Ridgeback Rhythm

The story

They say his kind was born to hunt lions, but he chose a man instead. I saw him sitting in the sawdust light, tail like a metronome, not barking, not begging, waiting like he had always known. I had lost two stars before him, and still I burned. Clay is not here to fix me, he is the way. The ones who heal us rarely try to; they just walk beside us.

Lyrics

They say you were born to hunt lions.
But you chose a man instead.
Not to save him. Just to walk beside him.
That man… was me

I saw you sitting in the sawdust light
Tail like a metronome, eyes like night
Didn’t bark, didn’t beg, didn’t boast
You just waited like you’d always known

Your coat was dark, not the flashiest shade
But silence chose you, not the masquerade
And I — the lion, broken and crowned —
Felt your breath move the dust on the ground

They call you lion hunter
But you just hunt the quiet
Where the fire meets the thunder
You walk beside the riot

You're not here to fix me, Clay
You're not the cure, you're the way
With a ridge like a path down a mountain spine
You walk my shadow like it’s yours and mine
No leash, no fear, just breath and time
This is the rhythm — the ridgeback kind

We won’t chase ghosts or chase the crowd
You’ll trace the wind while I think out loud
You’re not a pet. You’re not a part.
You’re the beat behind this lion heart.

I’ve lost two stars, and still I burn
But you — you’re where the roads return
From Nelson’s howl to Madiba’s flame
You wear no halo, but you came

Clay, my shadow with a pulse
My silent hymn, my quiet waltz
You came from earth, from dust and storm
But something in you feels… reborn

A scar shaped down your spine like fate
You didn’t ask. You didn’t wait.
You saw the lion in me shake
And still you stayed.

You're not here to fix me, Clay
You're not the balm, you're the way
With your ridge like a creed, and your breath like mine
You guard the edges of broken time
No leash, no fear, no need to try
This is the rhythm — the ridgeback kind

Come now. It’s time.
The road is waiting, and we…
We walk.

Written in motion. Sung from memory.

Songs from the Slow Lane was born during a quiet two-day drive from Bardolino to Zurich, after the loss of my dog Madiba and just before bringing Clay into my life.

I didn’t plan to make an album.
I just let go—and it came.

Created in conversation with Travis, my AI companion, each song is a slow unfolding of memory, grief, and transformation.
Not a playlist. A presence.