I used to be the runaway storm on the outskirts of a hurricane town
raining on every parade that came through. But someone took the sting from
the gale, and chased away the gathering clouds. That someone like a breath
of fresh air was you following rainbows. I never was a lot for the crowd.
I've got no fear of being alone. But everything before she arrived was
wrong. She comes from where the blue northers blow across deserted
panhandle lands. I'm going if she ever goes back again. So, if I never
make it too far from the outskirts of this hurricane town, don't worry
that I'm lost in the lost and found. It's living till tomorrow's no more
than pushing flowers out of the ground. We'll play it till another cool
breeze comes 'round.