The General Specific

If the trials at hand are really getting you down We had a close call I didn't even see it, then another one I hardly believed it at all What the writers say, it means shit to me now Plants and animals, we're on a bender when it's eighty degrees At the end of December, what's going on? Only for you and me With a show of hands, who's going back to the South? We're hungry next that I know And running the blender in a lightning storm Are disguised as a blessing I'm sure Growing up here, there comes a fork in the road Pants have gotta go We're on an island on the Fourth of July It looks like the tide is going home In time I'd find a little way to your heart Down to the general store for nothing specific Gonna wash my bones in the Atlantic shore Only for you and me