| She’s got juice ripe and ready
|
| Soaking her sleeve
|
| It’s good to sleep when you need an answer
|
| Ready to receive
|
| I wasn’t looking at the mountain
|
| When I burned my hand on the stove
|
| I don’t want to sell death short
|
| But life is starting to take a hold
|
| We can stay for a couple days
|
| Maybe make a few friends
|
| If the price of time is right
|
| We’ll end up owning it again
|
| From jackshit southern Indiana
|
| To the Cascade Mountain range
|
| I passed her up on the interstate
|
| The model of her car had changed
|
| It was old but she looked pretty in it
|
| Turning her head to right the land
|
| I knew we’d meet her once again
|
| She looked like she was in command
|
| We can stay for a couple days
|
| Maybe make a few friends
|
| If the price of time is right
|
| We’ll end up owning it again
|
| Hanging in a ditch behind court two
|
| With the dandelion grass and clover
|
| Cracking back the hours slowly
|
| To erase the longing doubts
|
| Before the veil is closed, gonna get out
|
| Before the veil is closed, gonna get out
|
| Gonna get out before the veil is closed
|
| Burnt black spray can lay in state
|
| I’d used it to write my name
|
| Like a Texas lamb anticipating the clear left lane
|
| Now I’m going to take from you the apple
|
| And give back something more than food
|
| But first, you gotta promise you’re gonna share it
|
| Even though it feels this good
|
| We can stay for a couple days
|
| Maybe make a few friends
|
| If the price of time is right
|
| We’ll end up owning it again |