My soul is tailgating the tour van of some band from SF that takes themselves a bit to seriously
My soul is somewhere in the woods, half submerged in a creek, caressed by ancient waters toughened by ancient stones
My soul is in a brand new a stadium, cheering on some logo with 80,000 strangers
My soul is the color of calloused feet and broken promises
My soul is the gorilla beating his chest and in a swing of his fist my soul is a little kid wondering how can he cheapen the family bills