Meet Me At Three

Meet me at the second hand record store at three
we need some new tapes
some gas
maybe
a map.

sweet baby– oh my baby
how this moving keeps us moving
miles of pavement of asphalt of
american history
of our history

miles miles and miles of fucking and fighting and loving
from Nashville to Memphis to the great
long Panhandle of North Texas and we never stop moving

we switch role to role
driver navigator rivers lakes
water over and through
we
beat the heat
the words
the blister lust of our love
and this need
to wander and explore and find
and love and love and love

the road is wearing wrinkles into your laugh
the mix tape is stretching out
as we drive past the roadkill of our friendship
moving into primal
in sweatsoaked clothes that freeze and chill and sharpen
the farther north we drive
I will race the buffalos in South Dakota
you will shield me from snow in Seattle
before we run down the California coast
redwoods and confederate flags blowing past our dust

And we never really get lost
And we never really get home
this roadtrip doesn’t end
not in a mad flourish with guns and car chases and cliffs
not in a safe collapse on a familiar bed
we are too full of our own futures

Meet me at that second hand record store at three
we need some new tapes
some gas
and maybe
a map.

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