The text on this track comes off a B-side from one of [Putnam Aldrich's](http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Putnam_Aldrich) (my great-grandfather) records. He was a harpsichordist, a professor at Stanford, a chain smoker, and apparently had a sense…

Long car rides through the corn. Leave me angry and torn. And my lap covered in ashes. I drive through small towns. With my windows down. Dreaming of fatal car crashes. Somehow I can't decide what to do with the night. Cursing at…

After an adventure in re-recording the entire song down a third, we came back to the original, tightened and tuned. Always the self flagellating perfectionist, it still needs a bit more love. Always the pragmatist, it is probably done for now.

I do three things after waking up these days: I shower. I make coffee. I play this song and drink my coffee. Nothing complicated. Nothing fancy. Just some basic fingerpicking to test my motor skills and bring some aural sunshine into my day.

It is what it is. It's throwaway but I'm relatively pleased. Was going for something slightly Kinksy/Nilssonesque - sort of Vauderville..

added a bass. added the chorus, which i'll probably redo. added a bit of an ending. oh, and a smattering of pianer.

This fantasy was composed for a guitar several years ago. Later I arranged it for an orchestra. I tried to reach the baroque sound.