I've got 2 gigs and a convoy
of Chevrolet confession not as
clean as the pastoral breeze blowin'
in through my movie screen
Lots of red barn rambunction
and toothless transportation obligation
Dead armadillo dread and convenience
store stops on good behavior
Comin' to see your summer white
sailing hats and eat your turnip greens
Sit inside the benefit of your back porch
and take real hugs out on temporary loan
Go back to my artificial rooftop
wishing I could be like all of you

Written by Sara Fielder © May 2015