My fingers are chilled to the bone.
How many red lights until we get home?
Six but who's counting
A Hemingway would be nice but burgundy is fine
to put some color in your cheeks
and into my eyes when they start to see
The greatest mistakes are the ones never made.
The notes that we bend into tune
are the ones that speak most clearly.
Track Name: Surf 17
The door was open so I wandered in
looking for a drink. You were singing your gypsy hymns.
I asked if you were some kind of stained glass Janis Joplin.
You said I remind of the scent of a fresh box of crayons.
Oh, please protect us our honorary lady of the highway
and I swear that I'll try to keep us from back roads and two lanes.
I'll weave a tapestry depicting our great love:
you in your halo, me with my olive branch and dove.
I still remember you in that smoke-filled room
playing your autoharp,
angel in the dark.
It started raining so I couldn't leave.
You showed me your paintings while the heavens heaved.
We drank them dry and passed out in the spare room.
The years go too quick but the morning always comes too soon.