Risacca

Last night – hit the net
Woke up – in a sweat
Same scene, different dream – sudden ending.

Grabbed a pillow and covered my head
Kicked the phone off the side of the bed
Tried to sing, but the damn thing kept on ringing

I know
I’ll go
to Mexico
Someplace… nothing changes.

Maybe I’ll call on the phone
Maybe I’ll write you a letter
That’s what I meant when I said… goodbye.

Backed the shovelhead out of the shed
Hit the interstate hard heading left
The street below is water flowing undertow

There’s a song that I’d rather forget
But I don’t think I’ve shaken it yet.
As soon as I do, I’m gonna write us another one

I know
I’ll go
to Mexico
Someplace… nothing changes.

Maybe I’ll call on the phone
Maybe I’ll write you a letter
That’s what I meant when I said… goodbye.

I know
I’ll go
to Mexico
Someplace… nothing changes.

Maybe I’ll call on the phone
Maybe I’ll write you a letter

Maybe I’ll die, maybe I’ll learn how to fly.

That’s what I meant when I said…

(K. Moore, 1998)

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