Song For Kelly Huckaby

<br>Photographs of the best time you had, <br>windows smugded by the speed. <br>Leaving home with our bags from Iron Street, <br>as morning turned into California, <br>And smoke trailed from the butt of my cigarette. <br>Our glass house it threw rocks at all those it past. <br><br>Waking up to the sound of 5 A.M to take my turn at the wheel. <br>Climbed up Shasta, oh how the engine ached <br>as the sun tortured California, <br>and old alleys turned deep at the heart of me. <br>Murals of heros defacing the blank concrete. <br><br>Vision tunneled, Mission Street, hunger beat <br>lodged out as the engine wheezed. <br>Still moving regardless of stable ground <br>and this stable ground. <br><br>Photographs of the best time you had, <br>windows smugded by the speed. <br>Leaving home with our bags from Iron street <br>as morning turned into California.