I have three favorite things:
Coffee.
Whiskey.
The southwestern sun beating down on my bare shoulders.
And if one day I leave here
Don't let me forget to take the sun
And wash it in my sink.
So it shines brighter and brand new
On every cactus in the Sonoran Desert.
So it reaches all the way to Washington D.C.
One day while I'm reporting
About monkeys in suits running the playground
I'll feel it.
Take off my blazer and let that southwestern sun burn me red.
Then I'll go home.
Put some whiskey in my coffee.
And I'll be happy.