The General Specific
If the trials at hand are really getting you down
We had a close call
I didn't even see it, then another one
I hardly believed it at all
What the writers say, it means shit to me now
Plants and animals, we're on a bender when it's eighty degrees
At the end of December, what's going on?
Only for you and me
With a show of hands, who's going back to the South?
We're hungry next that I know
And running the blender in a lightning storm
Are disguised as a blessing I'm sure
Growing up here, there comes a fork in the road
Pants have gotta go
We're on an island on the Fourth of July
It looks like the tide is going home
In time I'd find a little way to your heart
Down to the general store for nothing specific
Gonna wash my bones in the Atlantic shore
Only for you and me
