Oh Action. And Solace. Will never be the same. You (my
wife) are all that I know. You are all that I care to
know. And there is Ice on the Trail: and there's a muddy
creek in the captain's bed. As for supper, I am okay for
the winter. I read the poster: I was told I had a right
to your bed. When the train rocks by the battleships I
recall that you are conservative you are the pain that
I'll feel when the sun finds its bed: (repeat). I know
information is processed and circumspect like a busted
seismograph singing warning songs for the pavement and
for your blessed movements and the constant pressure
pushing: I will call you by name in love's song.