Ain'tchu too quiet, country roads?
I though I could recall the quiet of your streets from childhood,
interrupted only by the passing train and the occasional whirr of a pickup.
But city life, even in a college town, it went and gone got me used to all the noise
like a welcome hum of a songbird that never skips town
and keeps his place on my front tree.
It's like I don't notice him, till all of a sudden he be gone
and here I be with all the quiet surrounding me,
like a blanket tucked in all the places I can't reach
to get out from under it.
Those motorcycles, those passerby, the conversations I wasn't meant to hear
(but I did hear, cuz they wafted their way through the window, and now I know how she really feels about Blake Smith in biology class)
The herds of honks and sirens and music pealing through the windows of every dumpy college car,
I miss their ditties like I miss old friends.
And I know, I know, I know the calm will reach it's place inside of me
like syrup finds it's place in the heart of waffles
and like rainwater makes it's ways to sloshy drains.
But what a fool, a fool, what a fool I be for thinking that I'd be used to it by now
and that I wouldn't miss
the city
And who knew I'd think you too quiet,
country roads.
Day #306
I though I could recall the quiet of your streets from childhood,
interrupted only by the passing train and the occasional whirr of a pickup.
But city life, even in a college town, it went and gone got me used to all the noise
like a welcome hum of a songbird that never skips town
and keeps his place on my front tree.
It's like I don't notice him, till all of a sudden he be gone
and here I be with all the quiet surrounding me,
like a blanket tucked in all the places I can't reach
to get out from under it.
Those motorcycles, those passerby, the conversations I wasn't meant to hear
(but I did hear, cuz they wafted their way through the window, and now I know how she really feels about Blake Smith in biology class)
The herds of honks and sirens and music pealing through the windows of every dumpy college car,
I miss their ditties like I miss old friends.
And I know, I know, I know the calm will reach it's place inside of me
like syrup finds it's place in the heart of waffles
and like rainwater makes it's ways to sloshy drains.
But what a fool, a fool, what a fool I be for thinking that I'd be used to it by now
and that I wouldn't miss
the city
And who knew I'd think you too quiet,
country roads.
Day #306
Comments
Post a Comment