im a rambler, im a gambler, im a long way from my home.

[wait_for_winter]

i wanna talk to the folks back home.
i wanna here whats new, whats good.
but those people don't exist anymore.
and home is just across the river.
home is all around me. i haven't really gone.
but it isn't anymore. home is nowhere real specific for now.
home is the road, with the the music and the weather
and the Boy riding next to me.
home is in the laughter and in the calm silence.
in the scenery and the features flying by.
home is in the drums and in Bob's and Elliott's guitars.
home is ever changing, its always just out of reach.

im hearing harmonicas in my sleep. and everywhere i go.
maybe this is what is fueling these feelings.