The Ripple and the Rush

Well, I guess I made my mind up ‘fore my feet ever hit the road
That it ain’t the line you’re walkin’ but the way you turn the gravel
And so I ground it down so fine that the road became a stream .

Well I ‘spose I tipped my hand before I’d played a single card.
But I find its best to bare your breast and get down off your guard.
When I get down the straits
I’m flushed out of the ripple and into the rush

Easy off the rocking chair
Living out in the backyard never got me anywhere
I won’t get older. I’ll burn white-blue and gold, a beacon of light.

Man, I wouldn’t call this a raft.
It’s so beat-up, patched. I’m banking on chance.
Lightning was river was stream was gravel was
Sheets-of-rock was wind was lightning again.
Down along the cove tonight gondola riders are turning to light.

Each of us is young, then gone.
Remember out in the backyard barefoot children on the lawn?
I’m not getting older. I’m tuned into the moment, the real light.

Easy off the rocking chair
Living out in the backyard never got me anywhere
I won’t get older. I’ll burn white-blue and gold, a beacon of light