From "Down the Wrong Pipe"
There is a drawer
Of letters, poems and plays
That somehow survived
A dozen moving days
There is a salty sting that
Tells me that I'm home
Wax Stax went belly up
Since Ive been on my own
Let's take the Plymouth
Pick up the girls and drive
From Silver Spring
To Oakland Avenue
And it might just be
The only serious thing I do
Five friends built a city with a stupid name
But so achingly beautiful just the same
We found a stick
And scratched our names in wet cement
A desert Bohemia
Where we could just invent
There's no percentage
In dwelling reverently
On things that weren't so great
The first time through
But it might just be
The only serious thing I do
There's no percentage
In dwelling reverently
On things that weren't so great
The first time through
But it might just be
And it's probably
The only serious thing I do
The only serious thing I do
Copyright 2005 Zach London