I'm Just a River

Trigger Warning

This piece includes themes of depression, hopelessness, and suicide. Please proceed with care.

In Loving Memory

Written to process the death of my nephew.
Rest in Peace, Phin.

Phineas Harvey Alexander Tillman
June 4, 2001–January 11, 2026

Lyrics

I'M JUST A RIVER

I’ve been carving through the valley
Long before they built this town
I’ve watched these waters rise
And families settle down
I’ve carried off the mountains
Every stone of joy and pain
I catch the ones who fall to me
And hold them year to year

The bridge has swallowed prayers
From quiet hums to raw-boned cries
I’ve seen the tired at midnight
Walking beneath a heavy sky
The moon hid behind the clouds
Too faint to see you leave
You fractured something in my depths
Searching only for relief

     I’m just a river, I don’t choose
     What the tired and hurting do
     But I’d trade every drop of me
     If love could’ve pulled you through
     The hard days spoke like the Gospel
     And you believed every word they said
     I’d have carried you a thousand miles
     But I couldn’t quiet your head

Now your name moves upstream
In your mother’s cry
In the silence your father swallows
When the house has lost its light
Your family passes by the rail
Holding breath inside their chests
Learning how to miss you
Without rehearsing how you left

     Repeat Chorus

Standing on the bridge
Believing rest is letting go
A current only moves one way
But a heart can still turn home

Writer: J. Ryan Johnson (BMI)
Copyright: © 2026 J. Ryan Johnson. All rights reserved.
Phone: +1 (407) 902-5419
Email: hello [at] tenthirtyam [dot] org

Audio Disclaimer

Lyrics: Original | Audio: AI-Generated

I am a songwriter and a musician, but I am not the voice meant to inhabit these verses.

I've used AI to bridge the gap for the concept demos, crafted to serve as blueprints that capture the genre, tone, and weary soul I hear for each song.

They exist as an invitation, offered in the hope that these lyrics will eventually reach the hands of an artist and storyteller who can bring them fully into the light.

Until then, they remain as they were born: quiet reflections on the grit and grace found just north of the county line.