1262

I would be okay
but I smell like tea tree oil
and someone let in a stranger
he’s sitting on the couch
and rolling a cigarette
I’m not sure how to tell him
this is my home
even though he looks
mighty comfortable

well then I hear the train
and I can’t tell if it’s my stomach
or a passing plane
maybe I’m hallucinating
fishing and lying
comatose on the banks

and now I’ve forgotten
all about the stranger playing
folk standards on the couch
I’ve got you on the mind
and that curl
you’ve told me about
so many times

I’ve got you on the mind
and maybe
just maybe my own delusion
we’ll have a house in Barcelona
and I’ll wear Spanish boots
no
wait
he’s playing a Dylan song

I’ve got you on the mind
and I’m at peace
in sorrow and tomorrow