not a footnote, no appendix, no annotated text
no suggested further reading list
nothing magic in the realism
doesn’t leave a lot of room for interpretation
you walked off like the Pistons in 91
not that it came as a surprise to anyone
you have a history of burying your history
but when the snow melts and you find your keys
the piles of penny, a comb and a frisbee
a burnt CD and written in Sharpie, just says “Road Trip”
i remember Telluride, all the wrongs we couldn’t right
i love you now on the other side
it’s just different
no instruction, no legend, no clever rhyming clues
no glossary to muddle through
no directions, no inset map
no carefully plotted geocache
that’s a fight I don’t wanna win
would you talk to me
you have a history of burying your history
you have a history with me
but when the snow melts
and the highways clear
wanna bet anything you’ll be on 95
driving out out of here
a tank of gas, a red knapsack
no intention of lookin back
what and where do you call home
are you gonna spend the rest of your life alone
i’m not sayin that’s bad or necessarily sad
just knowing you, it’s different
it's different
oh my friend i will follow you
through the darkness and the light
Children of the New Wave, gather here and turn up the volume and drive until your car becomes a spaceship and you can see your house recede in the distance. What a glorious album. jasondcrane