The old gray station wagon
Bane of my life
The stench of sweat and drying algae
Hands unpack the contents then reach for beers
By the time it's empty it's time to fill it again
A plan forms and mouths sing
A keyboard comes out and people give in
appealing to the anxiety in their souls
The gray station wagon
Is diry and the battery is treacherous
The backseats are lying flat to allow more room
Someone sleeps there now hangover due in a few hours
What a mess it is sidewalk is full of the gear
indifference and laziness
good singing voiced
prospering alcohilism
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