There Are Parks

There are parks

There are parks and I am here

And you there

Probably smiling from ear to ear

I feel ridiculous

That I drive right by your house thinking

You may come outside in the morning

In a robe or a bath towel

To take me inside along with your newspaper

But then I remember that no one reads newspapers anymore

And then I also just now remembered that that would never happen

For a whole slew of other more logistical reasons

Man, I hate logistics

I have exhausted my hometown

I have worn it to the bone

I have exhausted sweet acoustic sounds

So I will crank up a gnarly sort of dirty tone

I want to scream now

I want to scream at every ray of the sun

I want to then chill the fuck out

And feel embarrassed for the way I let my marbles run

And now I am longing for the smell of Johnny's kitchen

Where I smelt like beer and sweat

For those times I felt so comfortable

Real cool in my element

And you waved hello!

or goodbye?

- I guess it's possible you waved two times

So just holler if you want me to be yours again

we can listen to Talking Heads again

And stare straight up at the ceiling

Of your Phyllis Drive bedroom

I got a number, number in mind

Please let me perform another magic act

I was so serious then

Now I'm split at the sides

All alone at a park with dirt up my knees