You could not be faithful in the end You could not be faithful in the end I only asked for eternity, forever and again But you could not be faithful little friend Every sunrise to paint the mountain dew Every honesty Rembrandt ever drew…

Stumble across A crack in the sidewalk Jolted back to the dry city air I thought I was ready I hear myself crying Just get home before anyone stares Can't feel a thing except fingernails piercing skin Cover the wounds Try to fit in…

This is a silly song I wrote 35 years ago for a crush. For some reason today felt like the day to record it. The way that mountains shape the horizon The way that lightning lights the sky The way that ice cream makes you shiver The way…

The smell of wine sweetly passes, bittered by her breath Those lies weaving twisted thoughts deep into your head That life is better traveled where no other thoughts have lead But life may live to deceive Curtain drawn, her hair let down…

Straight ahead stone city electric blues for an old friend who used to spend hours spinning BB King and Mike Bloomfield records for me. Recorded back sometime at the end of 2006 on old analog equipment

The smell of wine sweetly passes, bittered by her breath Those lies weaving twisted thoughts deep into your head That life is better traveled where no other thoughts have lead But life may live to deceive Curtain drawn, her hair let down…

The closer of the album. It only felt fair to give the guitar a turn with the tune.

The second half of the theme to this album. Sit still too long and you become something else.

I wanted to write a response to the happy-hobo songs that had been tormenting me (“King of the Road”, “Bummin’ Around”), and hit on this. It’s a little reflection and appreciation.

Something old.