Dian, you say the sun is going down But it's a ways across town I think we've got a little light left Dian, you say you miss me when we talk But I'm the only one who calls Ain’t it funny how that works out Dian, first your sister…

Sunday morning, no such luck My head is dizzy, it’s bright as fuck I’m dying I make my way to south French broad Lumbering wondering where she’s gone or something I see Sam he’s in the same shape as me Bundled in funneling misery by the…

I wish I was the moon in the sky O I wish I was the moon in the sky If I's the moon in the sky I'd be floating in your eye Wish I was the moon in the sky I wish I was the song on your lips O I wish I was the song on your lips If I's…

I wish I was the moon in the sky O I wish I was the moon in the sky If I's the moon in the sky I'd be floating in your eye Wish I was the moon in the sky I wish I was the song on your lips O I wish I was the song on your lips If I's…

Darlin I been dreamin about the moon on the prairie The way our voices carry, the song on the radio Arm out the window, dipper in the sky On a solstice night Darlin I been dreamin about the breeze on the water The mountain and her daughter…

Anticlimactic jam in a time signature not yet known to man. Maybe 6/8

Darlin I been dreamin about the moon on the prairie The way our voices carry, the song on the radio Arm out the window, dipper in the sky On a solstice night Darlin I been dreamin about the breeze on the water The mountain and her daughter…

I’m light and love Until I go broke I’m nothing but smiles TIL I’m on my last smoke And if the suns not in my eyes I could tell you a joke “It only gets better? Let’s leave it to hope” I’m a fair weather vain TIL the rain makes me…

Darlin I been dreamin about the moon on the prairie The way our voices carry, the song on the radio Arm out the window, dipper in the sky On a solstice night Darlin I been dreamin about the breeze on the water The mountain and her daughter…

Spinning like the wheel Painted on the temple Does the wheel turn slowly Or is it me that moves? I can count the hours And I can name the prophets Kept like silver spoons Struck like wooden matches Should I call it sleep or divine…