Banjos and vagabond songs
these are your heroes
I don't think you're wrong
but Neil Young doesn't know ****
about the weight of a heart of gold
I wish I could see it all
in that backwards view
of a freight train flying by
and I wouldn't mind
you by my side
like Janis and her romanticized McGee
but I've never been anywhere
longer than a few days
worth mentioning and I'm
covered in spider bites
from the dust and courage
of un-making my bed again
the ache of a blue-collar soul
song never caressed my ear the wrong way
I've got vagabond dreams
but too much of a rebel soul to go
with the flow of whiskey rivers
where flasks don't refill
I meant well but the dog bit back
too bad I still have trouble with
feral friends not ready for saving
cities build you up or down
you're either made
a liar or an idealist
always a cynic either way
you've been thinking
but I've been Janis too long
to think I might have won
I'm starting to believe a heart
of gold needs love
a little tarnished but Neil Young
was wrong
it's the expressions you give
not the mining you did
that remind me
these stale-dust spider bites
don't make a heart any
less gold.