I'll bring you here,
To these hills made of iron.
Hard though they are,
They look velvety soft.
I'll play that Lucinda Williams song,
(I always forget what it's called,
But it's really great and I think that you'll like it.)
And you'll see how a landscape
Can look just like a song.
I'll take my foot off the pedal
So we'll sail through the floodways,
Your tummy will take flight,
And you'll say "Do it again!"
We'll wave at passers-by
With our thumbs-and-two-fingers.
Your left arm and my right
Will go brown in the sun.
You'll look across to the ranges,
Where your gaze will take pause,
Then you'll look back at me,
And that look will say:
"I see what you mean. This place is spectacular;
It's taken my breath.
Now a small part of my heart
Lives here, too, just like yours."
I'll bring you here
To these hard but soft places,
Where the trees are so humble,
And the hills sing old songs.
I'll bring you here
To these hard but soft places,
Where you'll find your lost pieces,
And remember the stars.
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