LYRICS MUSIC VIDEOS

Discover the Reason Behind the Lyrics

Michaelangelo

Music has always been the thread that stitched together the chapters of my life. More than fifty years ago, on a small Kentucky farm, I would sit on the front porch under a wide night sky with my German Shepherd, Sarge, listening to Elton John on a transistor radio pulling in WLS from Chicago. Those quiet nights — just me, my dog, and the stars overhead — sparked something deep in me. It wasn’t just the melodies that stayed with me, but the stories within the songs. They opened my imagination and made me realize I wasn’t just a farm boy — I was someone searching for meaning, beauty, and connection in the world around me.

I never thought of myself as the musical one. I was always drawn more to the words — the storytelling side of a song — and I often felt closer in spirit to Bernie Taupin than to Elton, not because I could ever compare, but because I understood that quiet pull toward lyrics and the way they can paint pictures in people’s hearts. Years later, when I began collaborating with John Mahon, it felt like something had finally come full circle. John brought the musical voice I never claimed to have, and in the most natural way, he became my Elton — not in stature, but in partnership — helping turn simple words into living songs.

That journey led us back to words I had first written in Columbus, Ohio, in 2005, during a season of life that felt both uncertain and hopeful. I spent many evenings at a small coffee house near my work, filling notebooks with fragments of thoughts I sensed might someday become songs. With John’s gift for melody and emotional clarity, those early writings were revisited and reshaped, and Michelangelo Tonight began to take form as a true collaboration built on trust and shared vision.

The spark for the song’s imagery came one evening when I passed a large mural of Van Gogh’s Starry Night, which led me to explore iconic works of art and ultimately to Michelangelo and his breathtaking Statue of David. Studying its details — the strength, the vulnerability, the sense of life within the stone — made me think about love in the same way: how it shapes us, reveals us, and turns ordinary moments into something timeless.

From that inspiration came the heart of Michelangelo Tonight — a celebration of love as a work of art in progress, born during a time when I was rebuilding my life and balancing days of hope with days of uncertainty — what I often called “three days happy and four days sad.” Through it all, the song became a reminder that even in life’s unfinished moments, there is still beauty being carved.