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SCALLOPS HE’S MAKING SCALLOPS IN THE ROADSIDE HE DRIVES IN PATTERNS OF HIS OWN HE TAKES MY QUESTIONS ON HIS SHOULDERS HE HOARDS HIS ANSWERS LIKE THEY’RE BONES. HE ONLY SMILES HIS SMILE IN PASSING AT NIGHT HE TAKES ME IN HIS ARMS THEY MAY NOT THINK THIS LOVE IS LASTING BUT WE KNOW THIS LOVE HAS ITS CHARMS. I BLOW HIM INTERSTATE KISSES THEY GET ALL FUMBLED IN THE WIND BUT WHETHER THEY BE HIT OR MISSES EVERY KISS IS MEANT FOR HIM. I’D FOLLOW HIS LITTLE RED ASS DOWN ANY HIGHWAY THAT HE CHOSE MORE THAN HALFWAY ACROSS TEXAS AND WE’VE GOT EVERYWHERE TO GO. Summer
92 Kerrville, TX |