Lately, after a glass of wine,
I've been getting reckless.
I'll call a woman up
say
Hi it's me
and
remember that time
and
when you did that
and finally
Why didn't we

and an hour later we hang up

Then there are the dreams of the road.
A soul of concrete, a diesel soul,
a twelve speed soul, that’s how I rolled.
I hate that it calls and I must
leave the call unanswered.
Ah, time.
You many miles.
I have the heart of a Troubadour,
the flesh of a stone.