I am awake with coffe cake
Although pumpkin bread
Is what I wanted
Slow roasting Adams Rib
The dancing boy is helping
Losing your shoes
Finding your mind
Smoke filled rooms
Checking out at noon
The comforts don’t comfort
Like they used to
We slide through miles of blasted rock
Stained with generations of foreign sweat
Our wheels pack the graves
We stand on the shoulders
And soak in the applause
Like we lit the fuse ourselves
Purple flowers by the road
You are not the first person to dance
Cheese curds and root beer floats
Hot sauce and egg rolls I’m tired of
Chasing that pea down the street
There’s so much health
so much beauty
so much rock
Schwervon! 