final

Come Tomorrow - I'm like a tumbleweed, got no roots I'm like a climbing vine, leaves and chutes Come tomorrow, I might not be around Come tomorrow I'm a reflection, you see me in your mirror A missed connection, so far and yet right here…

...is this what they call a ho-down?

To the sleepy town of St. Paul, Minnesota.

the girl with her piano this land she's in clothed in unfamiliarity these colors blend, fade and run out of hue all light has changed and turned into greyscale tinted with every shade of blue this room she's in suddenly fills with…

1776...a stalemate over Bostontown, Colonel Knox reminds General Washington of some cannon left at Fort Ticonderoga in upstate New York and asks if he and some hearties could go fetch them so they could have half a chance against the British…

the sheriff's back in town that o' hired hand of dread cleanin' up the channels knockin' down the webs his lights, they are a flashin' stopped me in my tracks alone his hand on rein and bridle says this freedom's gotta go he said it…