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.