Eight hundred miles for you
Eight hundred miles for me What can I say?
It’s not so hapless
It’s not so harsh
I can take it So I sit on the porch and I listen to traffic
I read the paper
This is water
This is wood
This is your living room
This feels good
Half fiction, half documentary
I’m right on No
I don’t know
There is distance more than miles
But our ideas are adjoining canals