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Gone into the wind, broken back and an overflowing cup.
Creatures filling up there cars, and monsters under my bed
A lost imagination gripping to life on the rail.
Cold wind blows, and leaves me here.
No where to go, but to the bottle
Soaking in a vast amount of liquor
Which ever way is the quicker,
How far to the river, can I go on foot.
Or will the wind blow me back in a narcotic dream
Filled with women and beer,
I just wanna be alone for awhile.
Until the wind comes back to bother me.
Gone into the wind. I came back from it again.
Blaine McCanless
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