Flew into existence, just a sweet bird of youth.
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Hugged my friends on the pavement,
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Hid my dreams on the roof.
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Wrapped in a blanket from the national health.
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It isn't money but then what is wealth?
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My dad he left me back in '56,
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The moon got tilted and the sadness was mixed.
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My mother loved me, but she couldn't do much,
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She brought her kids up in a rabbit hutch.
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Well it feels all right,
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Wish it felt good every night.
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Chuck Berry riffing drove me into my teens,
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The way I swaggered it was pure James Dean.
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In Indo China things were getting hot,
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I found the answer on a used car lot.
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The sun gets murdered as we hold back the night,
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The road's a river, but it feels alright.
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Route signals flashing and the border's gone,
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I'm rolling southward to a Maggie Bell song.
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-----------------
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UNDER THE VOLCANO
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| Pretty Things |
