I found you in the gravel,
the wet muddy gravel

How far did you travel,
in sunlight or in shadow

River winding high,
receding when it's dry

Reflecting clouded skies,
perceived through panfish eyes

Here chipped secrets lie,
downstream our dreams do fly

All we can do is try
scattered like flints awry

Wise in worldly ways?
I'd rather be a fool
Who dies honest anyways

A handful of heat, coffee tastes sweet in the bottom of the mug
Splayed out, dissected human bug, body chopped and tugged
Catalogue my suffering, patch me together with hemp twine
Ignoring every sign and warning, falling is soaring interrupted
A life defined as loveless, a body bled out bloodless
This mud is sticking to my brain again, no way to win
Don't you hate it when it don't work out
Hanging around until you can't leave
Cried all my tears and can't grieve
Nothing left to even believe

Hello old friend
I want nothing to do with you
But here I am searching you out

Hello old friend
I thought you left so long ago,
But here you are, crying

It must be a dream
Brain letting off stream
Sanity flowing down stream

Southbound or bust
By rubber or rust
Getting nowhere on trust

I’ll crawl if I have to, not even fuss
Turned mean as a rattlesnake,
Heart choked out on dust

Why do I keep coming to these places?
Attempting to siphon something into this void
Vicarious joy, vicarious hope, still dream of the rope
Can't cope with this anymore, the wound is forever sore
I'm getting sick of trying, lying to myself a bit more
**** your good health, choke on your worthless wealth
Burn down another Newport, the tenth or twelfth

A shot of whiskey for the rain
A shot of whiskey for the pain
My efforts to stay insane
Let's take one for the rain

Burning down another menthol smoke
Pulled from packs like ***** jokes
Learning that it's all or broke
Flick away that **** and croak

All to be said was spoke
Between us in the end
But something brings back memories
Which I cannot defend, that send me

To places gone,
How does one
Swim back up
Stream?

Seventy eight cents accelerated into a slapped palm
A nod between us to prepare this nickle dime handoff
Passenger in this body behind a wheel
Slave to yellow white blurs on blacktop
Can't stop thinking I should drive up all the roads I drove down,
Manic around town, sporting a frown
Like a clown with mismatched shoes
Filling blank space with blues and *****
No cruise control to pull me down this road
Foot bears the load, frame bent Ford
By the grace of the Lord still breathing
No longer careening down unfamiliar paths  
Not the last laugh
But close