you'll find me in the morning,
not quite drunk,
kinda swaying in the bed of my pickup.
with a half-empty, half-full bottle of jack
held in my earth-dusted hand,
i'll be drinking the sunrise away
like it's something to strive for.

i guess you could call it meditation.

maybe i'll be hoping you'll find me
whenever i decide to disappear,
but i guess everybody lives forever somewhere.