Out of Savannah
Up through the Carolinas
The rhythm of the pines
Reminding me the finest things are moving
The finest things are moving
Quick
In & out of Richmond
Strings & things & fingers fast
Unload break down & then repack
Rinse spit repeat get paid come back
If the finest things are moving
We get finer by the hour
Yeah if the finest things are moving
We get finer by the mile
I had a home for seven years
Two cats & a yard
Wifi re-fi the neighbour’s kids said “hi” every morning this time they say that they are moving
I can’t wait until they’re moving
Next stop up the road
It’s Washington DC
One big monument to status quo & cash & greed
Their roads are just a symptom
Of the overall disease
We give that town a wide wide berth
The traffic & the companies
We keep on moving
God knows that they ain’t moving
Turn left
No rain nor snow nor gloom of night
can keep us from our task
no Hell high water rising tide
can still our restless hands at last
the rivers crush the mountains
but our voices never tire
our bodies movement is the finest thing
and our music is a fire
our fire
©2015 rob Hinkal
For Sir Terry Pratchett & the Royal Mail, and Malcolm Pettus, who will be forever moving.
Appears on: cicada
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