hit the road, Jack
and don't look back.
The ocean calls me
i can't resist it's insist
pull (like the tides)
hold (on my land-locked spine)
i'll pack my socks
in a rubbermaid bin
tie my bike on my too-small car
arcade fire on my -crackling- stereo
meander down the dawn highway
peanut butter on pita bread
(over) brewed coffee and some olives
i swear i'll find the Mountains
again
come with me.
we can squeeze into an apartment,
downtown- by the river
bake our own bread
never sleep in beds
come with me.
we'll never grow up
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