Lyrics

from the western edge of highway one
to the east of appalachia
I got my ticket baby here I come

following the
crows and colors
towards september

a letter written with a nervous hand
with the stroke of a shaky pen
bottled up and buried in the sand

castles built and
taken under
gone without a trace

watch the clouds along the coastal range
through the desert and the empty space
In Pennsylvania you can almost taste
the mountain laurels

when I lay these flowers on this grave
and do the math to find the final age
I think of all of the different ways

darling don't be
long in waiting
the locks and every
window breaking
the darkness won't be
long in taking