1977

1977

Hometown at night
Her bottom is sunk into the leather upholstery
Of my 1977 corvette
With Supertramp on the eight-track
While we plow through the darkness
Looking for an icebreaker
As an Arctic Front frosts the windows
She smiles as we slide into position
To park-like teenagers
On the funky side of town
But we dream California
While Mississippi mud sticks to our shoes
And the heater blows like the Santa Ana Winds