how could you forget your yellow bird?

Now they drive their cars up and down the beach. It’s ridiculous and everybody knows. Hear the Mustangs rev at the four-way stop. You get ghosted when the light says go. But in a town like this, in the checkered-flag dawn. It’s so empty you could make somebody dream. So maybe it’s you, in your four-post bed. Sound asleep, but still grinding your teeth. And, I wanna be your happiness. I wanna be your common sense pane. Wrap your head in a picket fence, we’ll build after the hurricane. ”