it just isn't Spring
until you see a
field engulfed in
flames
smoke shrouding the highway
fire lining the hills

once I was driving home
& I could swear I was headed
straight into Hell
with the red night sky
& an inferno on either side
of me and my car
sweet, sweet Lydia
but I'll be ****** if it
wasn't absolutely
beautiful

to me, Hell would be more
like a ghost town in
winter
nothing but fog
& cold

quiet
& rain

Heaven would be a
sunny day
at Woodstock in
1969

& I dare you to convince me
otherwise