But now I pass
Graveyards in a car.
The dead lie,
With their feet toward me
Please forgive me for
Saying the tombstones would not
Fancy their faces turned from the highway.
Oh perish the thought
I was thinking in that moment
The Saturday night dance
What a life? Would I like it again?
No. Once I returned late summer
From California thin from journeying
And the girls were not the same.
You’ll say that’s natural
They had been dancing all the time.