It's 77 degrees out today and the leaves are budding that early green color you can't find in a Crayola box. All we can think of is a Greg Brown song -- another one he didn't play at Shank Hall last Friday night -- and we'll leave you with the lyrics to take wherever they lead you. It's from his 1997 album Slant 6 Mind, one of our favorites:
Spring and what's left of the hippies return
From old rooming houses and Mexico
More letters, more journals, more poems to burn
Real heat at last, at last my words glow
My friend Jim just broke up his band
The guys all have jobs and the nights got too long
He's selling the amps, one guitar, and the van
I'm sure you could have it all for a song
Snow on the north side, trash in the yard
Love like a newspaper tattered and stained
A two bourbon twilight, fog from God's cigar
The neighbor's retarded dog chasing the train
Don't see any good in just hanging around
Take a tip from the birds and change the scene
Find some long river and follow it down
To where our old sins have washed up in New Orleans
Spring and what's left of the songbirds return
To fight about loving and nesting and such
Thanks for the letters you sent back to burn
Their smoke is as light, and as dark, as your touch
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