Hood River baby, zigzag home in your small black car.
Walk lightly baby, you stepped out of your blues song.
Up on Mount Tabor, you know one lamp is switched on.
And that's not rain on your shoulders, it's just the darkness
wishing for hands.
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3 comments:
Dear Baby,
I like the motion, and the way those hands aren't the ones who switched on the light, but seem like they could.
oh yes. I love the feel of those words in my mouth.
the sense of darkness/one light switched on.
are you missing the west coast yet?
Thanks; it's hard to write catchy lines.
Re: the west coast: I'm caught up in the whirl of being where I am; I have a firm sense of rightness about it (or perhaps just stubbornness.
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