Starkle starkle little twink,
who the heck you are I think,
I'm not under what you call,
the alcofluence of incohol,
I'm just a little slort of sheep,
I'm not drunk like tinkle peep,
I don't know who is me yet,
but the drunker I stand here,
the longer I get,
Just give me one more drink,
to fill me cup,'cuz
I got all day sober to Sunday up.
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After seemingly endless hours of days & nights on the blacktop moving freight across the country, on days off taking a ride in my pick-up along a dirt road anywhere is where I found solidute and gained my privacy. A side of me that few seldom understood. Roots started on both sides of the tracks, where the dirt road met the concrete sea.
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