What might have placed me on this path?
That’s no way to get along.
That’s no way to get along.
The best was when I took off in
a truck
of freaks and headed for the pass—
I was a maniac, walking down the slope with only a light
of freaks and headed for the pass—
I was a maniac, walking down the slope with only a light
day pack. It was a jabberwock
experience, sliding on my ass—
only way I could get down—
experience, sliding on my ass—
only way I could get down—
then huddling in the cold in my friend’s grasp.
Late April, do the math!
Only a maniac
Late April, do the math!
Only a maniac
would camp out overnight without a
coat.
That it didn’t snow was
providential luck
That it didn’t snow was
providential luck
a happy stanza in my karma-song—
breathing miraculous rebirth:
in that fateful night, confirmed a maniac!
That’ll be the way to get along.
breathing miraculous rebirth:
in that fateful night, confirmed a maniac!
That’ll be the way to get along.
