Ice On The Trail

Oh Action. And Solace. Will never be the same. You (my wife) are all that I know. You are all that I care to know. And there is Ice on the Trail: and there's a muddy creek in the captain's bed. As for supper, I am okay for the winter. I read the poster: I was told I had a right to your bed. When the train rocks by the battleships I recall that you are conservative you are the pain that I'll feel when the sun finds its bed: (repeat). I know information is processed and circumspect like a busted seismograph singing warning songs for the pavement and for your blessed movements and the constant pressure pushing: I will call you by name in love's song.