I wake up in the morning next to you Muted sunshine pouring through And from my bedroom we see so many trees reaching for the sky Italian redwoods and pines and sequoias and oaks so green And like a magnet I'm drawn to you And like an anchor cast into the ocean from a ship, I fall into you
I hear my garden calling me The begonias, the English lavenders, the violas, and the lilies, and the California poppies And the morning glories And my herb garden full of parsley, various mints, and rosemary Hey, let's go take a walk along The Johnny Cash Trail Splash around in the American River, walk across the bridges, and through the central California hills And walk by Folsom Prison I heard Suge Knight did some time in there It made me hurt, when in the documentary, he said, "How could it be me? 'Pac was worth more alive than dead."
And now I'm laying on my couch on my wrap-around porch A distraught friend's coming over, her and her husband are talking divorce I've made the guest room nice for her, fresh pillow cases and clean sheets And I put a blue vase in the window full of morning glories And I'm re-reading Nine Stories as we wait for her, I haven't read it since my early 20s Oh that's right, Seymour Glass, Seymour Glass lost his mind, and on this planet he wasn't meant to last And in the story Uncle Wiggily in Connecticut, I'd forgotten about how Eloise cried to Mary Jane in the end When she remembered the girl from school making fun of her brown-and-yellow dress
And while rereading For Esmé— With Love and Squalor, I thought I'm a little bit like Henry Miller, and a little bit like J.D. Sallinger I'm like Sallinger in that I like my solitude and my privacy, and I'm like Miller in that I can also be gregarious and fairly good socially And like both of them I'm funny and to the point, like both of 'em I can pull at your heartstrings But overall, I'm more like Miller in that I write autobiographically Direct and reckless Sallinger goes for the heart, Miller goes for the solar plexus
And I close the book when my friend pulls up the driveway She's in tears and I show her to her room, she tells me that she'll be hiding away And Caroline goes to the bedroom, and we kiss goodnight And I tell her and my friend downstairs that I'll be nearby On the patio, next to a pack of cigarettes, looking up to the stars in the sky The breeze is mild, the euphoric scents of my Island Pines Watering Spanish faces full of succulents and weeds and cacti And a part of me is living, but a part of me feels like it has died
All I know is that the atmosphere tonight is all mine Down the stairs is one of my best friends and upstairs is the love of my life Amd I'm out here under the porchlight looking out for both of them Like Atticus Finch on the courthouse steps protecting Tom Robinson The world is at once so painful and uncertain and yet so blind All I know for sure is that the atmosphere tonight is all mine And I'm rereading another story, Pretty Mouth and Green My EyesTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
