“When you follow your bliss,
doors will open where you would not have thought there would be doors;
and where there wouldn't be a door for anyone else.”
Roll On Down The Highway ~Bachman Turner Overdrive~
Look at the sign
we're in the wrong place
Come on boys
let's get ready to race
454 coming over the hill
The man on patrol
is gonna' give us a bill.
The time's real short
you know the distance is long
I'd rather have a jet, but it's not in the song
Climb back in the cab
cross your fingers for luck
We gotta keep movin' if we're going to make a buck.
Let it roll down the highway
My neighbor/buddy Lane came by yesterday evening and asked if I'd like to go Four-Wheelin' with him in his Hummer at Oceano Dunes State recreational area.
Well, yeah, of course. So we got going and jammed over there (a forty minute drive). The dunes are pretty cool, it's fun to drive in an area that is a huge sandbox. There were a number of people there, but the place was not as jammed as it often is.
That Hummer is one exceptional vehicle. He's got the old military style ones, the Real ones that can chew up asphalt, just cause they want to. He often pulls the H2's out of the sand. They can't well compete with his machine.
I put a little video up to show the time we had.
October 28, 2006
The Last Spike ~Cowboy Junkies~
Mornings feel so damn sad these days
without the call of the 8:15
That old familiar echo
has finally died away
leaving nothing but a chill
where there once was a mighty scream
And I've watched the flat cars
take away our timber
I've watched the coal cars steal our rock
And now that we've got
nothing left to take we're told
that the wheels will stop turning,
the whistles will stop blowing,
these foolish dreams must stop
Last year they closed down the post office,
took the only flag we had in town
That old brick building
still stands like a cenotaph
to a vision lost and buried in
a very distant past
And I've watched the flat cars
take away our timber
I've watched the coal cars steal our rock
And now that we've got
nothing left to take we're told
that the wheels will stop turning,
the whistles will stop blowing,
these foolish dreams must stop
The longest train I've ever seen
was the train that you were on
I walked you to the station,
we kissed and you were gone
I dream at night about you coming home
The train in the station,
your uniform on fire
as you step onto the platform
the band plays a little louder,
and as we embrace your cap falls off
Oh, I guess these foolish dreams must stop
Mornings feel so damn sad these days
without the call of the 8:15
Looks like this town is finally
going to die away
leaving nothing but broken promises
where there once was small town dreams
And I've watched the flat cars
take away our timber
I've watched the coal cars steal our rock
And now that we've got
nothing left to take we're told
that the TV station will be closing,
Main Street windows will need boarding,
that these foolish dreams must stop
I said goodbye to an old friend this last week.
It was not a person, it was a building, and in a sense it is a metaphor of my life to this point.
The building is one I first walked into over twenty-five years ago as a young kid not too long out of the Army. It was supposed to be a temporary job they told me, but it lasted over a quarter century in that building and some others nearby. During that time, it was often the center of our operations, and the focus of most of my attention at work. Ten thousand times I’ve driven up that long steep road bringing materials and supplies, or myself. Ten thousand times I’ve greeted the people I worked long-long hours with. Ten thousand times I’ve punched the clock, or more recently, logged online to complete my timecard.
I’ve watched renovations and procedures come and go. We tweaked the process where we could in order to work more efficiently and produce a better product.
And always, the specter of layoff was around the corner. For a quarter of a century we’ve been told “layoff may be in the next year or two”. So most of us continued our previous skills as a sideline venture, or learned new ones. Mine was landscaping, growing cactus and building web pages.
Now the walls come (figuratively) tumbling down as we take the last pieces of equipment from the old grand building.
Half of my life has been spent serving this building and it’s occupants, and all I own is due to this last quarter century of work that the company has given me. I am not from a wealthy family, my mother was a refugee from Nazi/Communist Eastern Europe, and my father is the son of poor Ozark Missouri Farmers who never owned much but hardscrabble hill dirt, and lost it all at the tail of The Depression. But now, I live on acreage in California! What a dream!! It shows what can be done in this country with hard work, perseverance and dedication. This is the greatest country on the earth, and I am so thankful that my parents went through the trauma they did so that I could access the opportunities that this land has to offer.
The marketplace of life is set to a certain level, what the mean average produces is what the mean average life will acquire. If you want more than that you have to work very much harder.
Yet the marketplace of life varies depending on the local market. An example is a Third World country, where the people live in huts, walk a mile to carry a bucket of water back from the creek, and have open sewers. The common person there will toil and have those meager benefits, the ones there who work smarter and harder will have perhaps a small house with no electricity. But they will have to work so much harder for that than the common person there. But in this country, the lazy will often be given tax benefits for not working much, they might be given an apartment. The half willing will be able to afford just a bit more than the non-working. But those who desire to work hard might be able to reap great rewards if they do not blow their money. With due time, and good management of their personal resources they might in a few decades be able to live a comfortable life. The standards of this particular land are so much higher than other countries, and it is not with much exaggeration that I say that if you cannot make it in this country, you can’t make it anywhere.
So, the other day, I took the last load out, yesterday I drove the big forklift some eight miles down the road to the depot to await disposition. But before I did, I took one last walk through the building, remembering old times and people, the ones who have passed on, and the ones who have retired. Many are the old friends who have been laid off, almost none of us are left. The place is officially closed and powered down, and my time with the company is nearly up also.
While I have some trepidation with this move into a new phase of life, I am excited for the prospects too. Luckily I am not afraid of work, and the cactus business continues to grow. I also have new venues in mind to pursue, some exciting things most certainly lie ahead for me.
To all the people I have worked with through the years… I thank you all for the things you have taught me, I’ve grown so much due to the advice and lessons I’ve learned. I’ve been blessed to work with some of the greatest people in the country, in the greatest country there ever was. I will always remember the good times, and the good work we did. What we did was for the benefit of the USA, and I am so happy to have paid back some of my debt to the country that gives me such opportunity. Thank you all so much. And I wish all of you the best in your own new ventures.
It was a pleasure to have worked with and known you folks. God Bless you all.
October 27, 2006
There goes the neighborhood ~Sheryl Crow~
This is the movie of the screenplay of the book about a girl who meets a junkie.
The messenger gets shot down just for carrying the message to a flunky.
We can't be certain who the villains are 'cuz everyone's so pretty
But the afterparty's sure to be a wing-ding as it moves into your city.
Blond, handsome, tall, blue eyes
Strong and proud in his uniformed guise
Proud to defend the “Fatherland” and Rhine
Walking back from the village
In the bright Bavarian sunshine
To his unit not far away
A smile in his heart
A girl on the path not far ahead
Standing near the old castle tower
“Guten morgen! A beautiful day.”
They speak their names, so much to say
An hour seems a minute on this day
“I must go.” he says. “Will I see you again?”
“I will be here tomorrow at ten.”
She gave him a rose from the bush nearby
They said auf wiedersehen, goodbye
They meet again, and again, and again
Giving themselves to each other in time
One day something new is on her dress
A star on her shoulder
To show her pride, they told her,
In being a Jew
A sign of unspoken foreboding, they knew.
“It does not change us.” they said.
“We will always be together.” they said.
We will meet here in secret
You will know I am here
When the rose is at the tower door
And the candle is in the window there.
They came in the night to take her away
To a place where she’d be happy, they’d say
He came the next day and there was the light
The rose was there, but the girl not in sight
He waited, and waited, and waited more
Until there was nothing but to go in the door
And the soldier was never seen again.
It is late evening, summer 1961
I walk from the village to the old castle door
I see a candle in the window above
As I get closer I meet an old man there
Tall and handsome his blue eyes show despair
“I’m waiting for her” is the first thing I hear
As he points to the castle door
I looked and a beautiful rose is there on the floor
I looked up and the candle light no longer shone
I turn to speak and the old man is gone
Was I dreaming? I rub my eyes
I turn back to the castle door
And there at the entrance sits the forlorn rose
Now clearly long dead on the floor
I have often seen a light in the tower
And I thought I heard boots on the stairs
I never saw the old man again
But always the rose is there.
Santa Maria was originally known as 'Central City' due to the Central location it occupies on California's coast. The name was eventually changed to Santa Maria because there were mail misroutings with another Central City in Colorado.
Santa Maria has an old part of town with buildings built of brick which is generally not used for building material in this area anymore. Cruising through an alleyway behind a custom truck shop, I saw this old door, with it's weights to help move the doors. It was such an old style and design, yet obviously functional, and made me think of how in the old days folks used ingenuity to help them accomplish tasks. It is a little snapshot of a time a hundred years ago.
My Dad used to have a cellar on their farm in the Missouri Ozarks, when he was a kid he enjoyed slamming the door of the cellar which was a 'trap door' style on the floor. It had a weight stack also to help one lift it since it was huge and heavy, but when slammed down would slam into the frame with much force and a terrifically (for a kid) loud slam. One day he did this not noticing the cat was sitting on the edge, with his tail over the frame. The door chopped the cat's tail off, the cat screamed and ran off into the woods, but came back a few days later with the stub healing well. For the rest of his life that poor cat was a stub-tail, but it did not seem to affect him adversly after he healed.
October 25, 2006
Just Say No
Sacha Baron Cohen is a really skilled and highly talented comedian who has the new movie coming out called 'Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan'.
I really enjoy his sharp and quick wit. He gets interviews with unsuspecting victims and pulls a really fine act over on them. To see an example of his skills, go to the links below to see video made of some of his skits.
Slates Daniel Engber has an article on Borat, explaining that the people he interviews in his guise as a Central Asian journalist thought they were being filmed for a documentary, not a comedy film that in some ways will be making fun of them. Can they sue?
Visit Borat tricked me, can I sue???
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And for the more cerebral person; a 'down-to-earth' discussion (read documentary)...
a scholarly report on 'Cyclical Non-Uteran Dysmenoria' (Male Menstrual Cramps).
October 24, 2006
Heavy Horses ~Jethro Tull~
The Suffolk, the Clydesdale, the Percheron vie
with the Shire on his feathers floating
Hauling soft timber into the dusk
to bed on a warm straw coating.
Cutting soft timber into lumber
Driving along a small highway in Santa Barbara County I saw a man and his son working on their pine trees. They had this sawmill setup that enabled them to cut their own timber into dimensional lumber.
One of our neighbors has one also, it is a huge chainsaw that runs along a track to keep it level and steady. He kept running into nails and such that people long ago had put into the trees to hold fencing (trees should not be used as fenceposts). He even ran into a horseshoe that someone had nailed to a tree and the tree had grown around it encasing it into the middle of the tree!
These big logs are quite heavy, they require a lot of muscle and even more ingenuity to move them. My great-grandfather used to cut timber in the winter in Hungary. He'd do it alone using a block and tackel with horses to pull the logs high into the air, he'd position the wagon under the suspended log, and then lower it. One day while returning to the house with a load of logs, the wagon scittered off the road on the ice, and he was trapped under the logs and died. When he was late for supper they sent my grandmother (then about ten years old) to remind him to come home for supper. The poor girl is the one who came along and found her Papa already frozen stiff under the logs.
Everytime I went woodcutting, it always worried my grandmother (God Bless her soul).
Sing a song for the evening
Clean brass to flash the dawn
across these acres glistening
like dew on a carpet lawn
In these dark towns folk lie sleeping
as the heavy horses thunder by
to wake the dying city
with the living horseman's cry
At once the old hands quicken ---
bring pick and wisp and curry comb ---
thrill to the sound of all
the heavy horses coming home.
The main tree in these hills is the California Live Oak Quercus agrifolia
Well, actually this is not our own dead oak tree, it is our neighbors. We have to drive through their place to get out of the canyon, so we share responsibility (nice word, huh?) for the road. One stormy night while leaving home for work at 1:30 AM I was stopped by this oak that had fallen in the night. It was a monster, some fifty feeet high, and perhaps eighty feet wide, with a trunk almost four feet diameter. This tree was probably three hundred or more years old. It was a magnificent tree we were sorry to see go down.
I had to get turned around and back to the house for my saw so I could cut a path through the foliage as the creek and the steep hill revented me from going around the downed tree.
Later that week the neighbor and I cut this tree up to clear it. Much of it is still there as it is just too large for our saws to finish off. This photo shows my neighbor Scott with one huge log on his Bobcat Skid-Steer. This log weighs some eight hundred pounds I'd imagine.
I took the smaller bits of wood for BBQ for helping dispose of the foliage and cutting the tree.
Woodcutting can be a dangerous undertaking. One must have good situational awareness, and a buddy ready to help out if a log should shift pinning you, or to run off for help if something bad should happen. The price you pay for wood is small considering the hazards associated with the taking of the timber, and the number of years it takes to grow.
Sore From Woodcutting Poem by Wayne Jackson
I am sore from woodcutting.
Sawdust covers the grass.
smells like the oak I have just finished cutting.
My hands still feel the chainsaw.
My shoulders are tired.
I have stacked the wood in a pile
as high as a man, between a walnut
and a pine.
The wood settled among itself,
converging into its own plane,
to wait for winter.
To wait for me
to carry it to the house in
armloads
This is me standing by the downed oak. That was a huge tree, and sad to see it go down. This one tree missing from this spot opened up the sky to sight. This bright blinding winter's sun has not shone into this spot for over a hundred years.
October 23, 2006
Midnight at the oasis ~Renee Olstead~
Come on, Cactus is our friend
He'll point out the way
Come on, till the evenin' ends
Till the evenin' ends
Midnight at the oasis
Send your camel to bed
Got shadows paintin' our faces
And traces of romance in our heads
I came upon a movie marque generator that I thought some folks might enjoy playing with. Put your name up in lights, before you know it, you'll be able to get you a star on the 'Walk of Fame'!
I like the looks of this, think I'll put on my dark sunglasses, my silk ascot, and jam down to Hollywood for a 'Power Lunch'.
OK, this one came from Bus sign generator. After this one I promise to stop.
October 22, 2006
Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters ~Elton John~
While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters
Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers
Turn around and say good morning to the night
For unless they see the sky
But they can't and that is why
They know not if it's dark outside or light
I liked this sunrise so much, I thought I'd share it with those who sometimes do not see the night turn to day
October 21, 2006
Heidelberg Ave, Pomona California
I was born in Heidelberg Germany. So to pass a Heidelberg Avenue while traveling in Pomona Calif was pretty fun..
Heidelberg is known as a 'University City' since it has three universities, and one of them is the oldest one on Germany.
Pomona is also a university City. And to drive that point home, the area I was driving through had many streets named after cities famous for their universities.
October 20, 2006
A beautiful building in Los Angeles
I love architecture. It is so amazing looking at the rise of architecture in the human experience, from the humble hut to the modern buildings we see today.
This building is of modern construction, but holds true to the Early California heritage with it's Moorish arches, red tile roofs, and the neo-Grecian columns. The palm trees make for a nice addition giving a quasi-tropical look to this most beautiful of buildings.
October 19, 2006
Three buildings in Nipomo (but we have more)
This is a view of the main intersection in our town of Nipomo. To the center is the world famous Jocko's saloon and steakhouse, written of by a friend of mine in his Website. The red house is a building Jocko's uses, and the white church is the same church I posted a nightshot of a week or so ago below.
Nipomo has something of a East Coast look. I suppose this is due to the founding Father the Boston Sea Captain William G. Dana being the brother of the famous Seaman Richard Henry Dana who wrote the famous book 'Three Years Before the Mast'. William Dana settled this area in the 1830's. He saw this land with it's ability to raise cattle. He helped the Spanish King arrange shipments of cowhides and tallow to the East Coast from California. The grateful King gave the man a huge Spanish Land Grant which included the area we live in, and the land for many miles around. He married into a Spanish family, and became a Spanish citizen. His descendents live here to this day, and some of them are our neighbors.
October 18, 2006
Gnarls Barkley
My niece Tamara, the jewelry artist called to ask about some horticultural requirements for some cactus plants. We ended up speaking also about music, and she told me of an artist I'd never heard of before called Gnarls Barkley. He has a fine music piece that is ready to open below upon your command.
The music is fine, I liked it a lot, but what was one of the coolest parts was the video that went with it. it was reminiscent of the Rorschach Ink-blot tests you see in the movies (never had a psych test me on this). Very creative, interesting, and fascinating to watch.
Notice how the little item in the 'ink-blot' test looks like a purple-headed cactus with green leaves and stem??? I wonder what Freud would make of that?
The video reminds me of a song and video called 'Anay Yo' from the Czech band called Cancisou. But, alas, I could not find the video on YouTube to view.
But I did find their 'MySpace' site at Cankisou. I really do enjoy their music, it cuts across many cultural boundaries.
They also have a website at Cankisou. But it did not do me much good as I do not read Czech (does that make me a 'Bad Czech'?).
UPDATE:
I got a response from Hanka, one of the band members of Cankisou (I think he's the big fellow who is their lead singer). He sent me the link to find the video Anay Yo, it is such a good video.
You can see the video I am talking about at video klip k písni Anay Yo ve formátu AVI DivX (43.6 MB)info o klipu codec mo¾no stáhnout na www.codecpack.com
It is such a good video, and I love the music and visual effects. The video loads in at 43.6 MB, so it is a bit of a large file, but comes in good and clear. They are such a great band to have their videos out there for everyone to download and enjoy for free. And to me it makes great marketing sense, this way the word of their artistry wil spread in a 'viral marketing' type of way.
October 17, 2006
Old and New, and Funny
Almost everyone loves to see cats acting funny. The video below is sure to make ya laugh.
The old time folks from thousands of years ago astound us with their abilities to move huge items, and to build megalithic structures from rock (which is what the 'lithos' refers to).
But why are we so astounded? Could it be this just reflects our own inability to comprehend using human ingenuity in an advanced yet primitive way to transport these huge stones?
The video below is of a fellow who thinks he might have figured out some of the ways the 'ancient ones' did so much. I am sure there are many more secrets to be uncovered.
Remember the secret to 'Damascus steel' was unknown until recently. We still have some rediscoveries to make. Every time the barbarians kick some tail and bring society low again, it takes a thousand years to build back up again.
My fear is that we might be seeing the beginning of a new Barbarian overtaking, so start thinking about the simpler ways to build with stone, it may be the house in your not to distant future.
But a modern wonder is the famous Coral Castle in Florida. This structure was built by one man, and he once had to move it a few miles away, so he did this with just the assistance of a driver who transported the stones from one place to the other, but never saw how this fellow loaded the stones on his trailer.
October 16, 2006
Video of a Canyon Deer, and the Canyon Road
I took some video of a young deer last year. Here it is on YouTube
I also took video of our Canyon Road. You can hear the birds calling, the wind whistling, and the truck bouncing all over.
While uploading my videos to YouTube, I spent some time browsing through some of my old favorites. One I found was the Christopher Cross song 'Ride with the Wind'. It had always been a favorite of mine. But to see it with the animated characters put into the video, made me think hard about the great abilities some people have. And it made me a bit sad to think of how low my own talents seem to be when compared to some of the people we come across. I suppose we all have our talents, mine seem to be in growing plants and spinning yarns, while some create beauty for the entire world to see.
October 15, 2006
Three Views of the Canyon
This is a view of our canyon road. People often wonder why our cars and trucks are so dusty.
Here is a shot of the dust a vehicle will stir up in this canyon. I like to keep a hundred yards or so behind anyone ahead of me, and I am reluctant to let anyone pass me, as I will then have to drive through their clouds of dust for some minutes. It is not the dust on my paint I am concerned about, it is the dust in my filters, oil and other vehicle components that bother me. Also it is not good to breath in any powdered substances.
Another view of the canyon road. Yes, we live a bit remote. We're so far back that the Post Office will not come out here, so we have to drive nine miles into town to check our mailbox.
October 14, 2006
We have Poison Oak in this area. It is similar to the Poison Ivy you see back East. The effects from contact with the oil (called Urushiol) are the same for both plants; an itchy rash, drying skin, and eventually blisters if one scratches. I've found the best remedy to be a day hanging out at the beach with several dunks into the ocean. The salty water seems to kill the spread and reduce the itching, as well as dry it out so that it will cause less bother the next day.
One can use hydrocortisone cream to reduce the itching if the beach is not possible. The cream will reduce the itching, enabling one to reduce its spread. In a week or so it will be past the bad part, and you will be healing well.
There are pills one can take also. I use a homeopathic pill that builds up my immunity before contact. Through the years of taking ‘the pill’ I have acquired a high degree of immunity. So I rarely take the pill anymore. I sometimes still get a little poison oak rash on areas where my clothes rub my skin, such as waistband and ankles.
One can make contact with the oil that gives you the itch from any animal or tool that has been through the plant. I’ve gotten it from snakes, deer, and dogs. The oil can remain active for up to six months on properly stored tools.
The Poison Oak plant brings some nice color to the California hills in Autumn. This is the bush variety of California Poison Oak.
This Poison Oak plant is the vining type, it crawls it's way up the oak trees, this gets them above the forest gloom, and hopefully (for them) into the sunlight.
This shot shows the vining appearance of this type of Poison Oak vine. In some places we see these vines hanging down from forty feet above. It gives an almost surreal appearance to these California canyons.
October 13, 2006
"I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure."
~Clarence Darrow~
"I didn't attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it."
~Mark Twain~
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A joke I heard the other day...
A receptionist is grieving over the weekend death of her employer. Answering the ringing phone, she explains to the caller that "Mr. Peterson is deceased". She hangs up the phone upon acknowledgement by the caller.
Ten minutes later she got another call from the same person. Thinking the caller was just not comprehending, she more slowly and clearly explained that "Mr. Peterson died this weekend. He will no longer be coming into the office, because he is DEAD!"
Another ten minutes passed, and the same caller rang again. This time she was a bit distraught, and she forcefully told the person the Mr. Peterson would never be able to speak to him again, and that the caller would never, EVER see him again alive! And why, she asked, did the person keep calling her asking for Mr. Peterson when she had already explained that Mr. Peterson was dead?
"Oh", said the caller, "I just so much like hearing that he's dead"!
October 12, 2006
~Captain Benjamin L. Willard~ (Martin Sheen)
...When I was here, I wanted to be there; when I was there, all I could think of was getting back into the jungle. I'm here a week now... waiting for a mission... getting softer; every minute I stay in this room, I get weaker, and every minute Charlie squats in the bush, he gets stronger.
Apocalypse Now is a great movie that was made some thirty years ago (my, how the time flies). There is much to be said about this movie which I imagine is already considered a classic.
If you'd like to go to a video which details a little about the making of this masterpiece you can go to 'Heart of Darkness'. But fitting in with my contention that a sense of humor and love of art are hallmarks that set us above the mean beast, I found an old parody video of Apocalypse Now on the internet. This parody was released in 1980, just a year after Apocalypse was released. It is a low budget short film that is in four parts on You Tube. Now, this is one fun video to watch, VERY creative!
We have a few different churches in Nipomo. This is one I pass by often. It is now gaily decorated for the Christmas Season that is rushing in on us right now (have you started your shopping yet?).
October 08, 2006
I made the mistake of going down Hollywood Boulevard on Friday night. It was wall-to-wall cars and foot traffic. It took me half an hour to go four blocks, I decided to just turn left and get to Sunset and back to 101 and outta there!
I took this photo of people standing outside a club, waiting for their chance to get in and dance with the 'pretty people'.
October 06, 2006
In some parts of Los Angeles you see these little Latino markets decorated all over with advertisements and festive colors. There is also likely to be some gang graffiti in attendance.
I like the nice colors of this one.
October 05, 2006
I think these little murals brighten an otherwise drab grey concrete wall.
This one carries several warnings, both from 'The Man' who is concerned with public safety, and also from the ones who consider they 'own' the freeway.
October 02, 2006
The first rain of the season
We got a little rain yesterday, it is the first since about April or May.
Well, we got some sprinkles in June, but just a couple nights in a row where I had to use my windshield wipers.
The old local adage that the first tarantula of the year presages the first rain in about six weeks proved true yet again. We saw our first tarantula of the late summer just a few days short of six weeks ago.
It's good to get some rain, even if it was not really recordable, and did littl more than wash some of the dust off the leaves. It means that in a month we'll have good rain, filling the ground with nitrogenous water and letting the plants and animals get a reprieve from this relentless water shortage that happens every summer here.
October 01, 2006
Bea's song ~Cowboy Junkies~
Speed River at my feet running low and flat
I'm sitting here burning daylight,
thinking about the past
and that distance out there
where the earth meets the sky
The slightest move and this river mud
pulls me further down
John's at my side, but he's sitting on firmer ground
John says I look at the moon and the stars
these days more often than I look into his eyes
and I can't disagree so I don't say nothing
I just stare on past his face at Venus rising,
like a shining speck of hope hanging over the horizon
With each passing year that I sit here
that horizon seems to inch just that much nearer
and all that appears on it seems as clear as spit
But if there's on thing in my life
that these years have taught
it's that you can always see it coming
but you can never stop it
Speed River at my feet running low and flat
I'm sitting here burning daylight,
thinking about the past
and that distance out there
where the earth meets the sky
The slightest move and this river mud
pulls me further down
John's at my side,
but he's not noticing that I'm drowning
The slightest move and this river mud
pulls me further down
John's at my side,
but he's not noticing that I'm drowning
