It’s pretty good, the wine/ The way that we look at/ Ten to eight in the morning/ Just talking, still awake in/ Dawn and dew drinking,
Thinking / Always…
Remembering the laughs, the time/ We got high for seven days down/ In New Orleans and it seemed like/ No one else knew we were
Just/ The moon and sun in fog before the/ Heat burned it away and took / The sleep from tired heads on/ Beds of reaching hands, of
Road trip/ Breath and long tall freedom
And then you long/ For the days of trippin’ down/ The long road just reading the/ Signs that show you the way to/ A higher place you
Meditate to/ Feel the quiet of the earth/ That was back/ When we used to be alright
Another shame, the way/ The city smells worse on/ A hot day in August…2 PM/ Right before us good movers/ Move and us shakers