Yeah the air was cool but the river looked thick under the bridge that put our heads in the orangey clouds, and the buildings that pulsed, echoed, pleading with for not to leave. So we stayed and we stayed and we played out in the streets just below the river banks yeah and I gave thanks and I walked down the walk with a drink in my hand feeling the music that made my heart expand. And you took your pictures that we still can't see though the memory I was hopin' that would carry me, pushed back by harsh east winds, neon hopes and junk store promises....streets cordoned off.

Not easy to return, but I can feel the pull

And we drove back through the country darker than my insides, with warnings of good ol' cops and thugs my eyes, darting out into zero, high beams making the black look....light black. But I came back, I needed to see to hear to feel again, the riverbanks and their molasses sin, put my hands on the flaky tiles and the wood and see the soft chair cracked by time and hear those dusty little rhymes.....

But it still works, I can feel the depth.
Not easy to return.

And we busted our insides 4-5 times over talkin about coinslots and mommy's laps and the shit sound and I took some. But you gotta admit I gave it back and I got us back like a train on a track.