Screamin' Gulfstream Blues

My motor home's a-coughin' like a cancer that won't pass
Rumblin' to high country sometime runnin' short of gas
Coulda flew a Lear Jet outa town if I actually had the class
I do but somehow never really got into it

Damn wind is comin' up, pluckin' garbage from the ground
Says Ross Perot the prophet to me 'what's that suckin' sound?'
Blowin' in it everything the Earth is spinning down
My lands the sun went off, I didn't do it

The levy's bowed and broken, livid liquids at the seams
The river runs right through it where lay flat the twisted beams
The beltway did away with all delight and driftin' dreams
I offered this to George let Henry have it

If the sun comes up tomorrow it may set down in the West
If my motor home keeps churnnin' toward the rust belt I may rest
If presses printin' money never stop may God be blessed
I took it all to heart to never lose it

I'm fifty two today and you remain the same
Since twelve years old I've known you, since your day my day became
Forty years from now that day will be eternal flame
and I believe that you will hold me to it
and I'll leave my motor home behind to do it
and I'll leave my motor home behind to do it
©2008 g.o.