His guitar snakes with melancholy
echoes of coffee shop psychedelia
mining a rich vein of appalachia tinged desire
Her voice mournful and wearily looking down
the long-sloped barrel of america`s yesteryear
where Tired was a thing you felt at the end of
a long day in the field, not fleeting
but dead weary give-up tiredness,
when the long drawn out notes seemed to pull
the very rhythm of the working day
and through their kinship
give comfort and somehow the will
to pull those old bones together just one more time.
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