Nevada Dusk in the desert,
It's raining pyrite
and I don't have an umbrella.
Yet, I'm smiling like you wanted.
It stings a little, but
I'm more concerned with
Making sense of these
broken paths.
Bonfires with bright red-orange
Shadows, brown and yellow
Sillouhettes, They're all
dancing to something.
I don't know what yet, but
I'm still bobbing my head.
Feeling the blues tonight,
So bring on that upright,
This grin aches like
A thousand missed turns.
There's a stain on my shirt pocket
and like my man said,
"It's going to take a little more
than vodka to get it off."
None of y'all look like you used to,
a little blurry around the edges.
I can deal with that,
I just wish I could
Navigate these
fucked up
dead end
dirt paths.
But it's not that easy.
Is it.
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