Some days no matter which direction you go...
it seems it’s into the wind
north-wind, south-wind, east-wind, west-wind
a wayward wind
wind wind in my face
blowing dust all over the place
it’s cold and unfriendly
black leather jacket and warm knit hat
a shot of johnnie and that’s that
here we are
wandering down the road again
trying to find the unfindable
reach the unreachable
wouldn’t know if I found it
odd world odd people
here it is, glorious month of October almost gone already
leaves just changed from beautiful to dead
now it’s november heart full of gray and cold
the clocks have fallen back like an army in retreat
when night comes and it’s long, dark, and quiet
