davey crockett in his coonskin and limping ankle
told me of god and love from his nutrient-less head
his wick glistened through wee-willy glass
as he leaned into the night playroom

your father could have beat you; your mother fed
but the road and two wheels can heal any hunger
under yogic fumes you'll count the stars

the rain brought you in davey
your thoughts take you out again
there is always space for me in your heart
and for you, in mine

jai guru deva

little lloyd you smoke all day
and in curling quiet you roll jays and glaze
where do you go that is better than here?
you retreat from sustained you

of course your journey will take you
but your mind is stuck in how it wants things to sound
thank you for the calm and the lucid tumult
and for the mirror of recoil

the rain brought you in davey
your thoughts take you out again
there is always space for me in your heart
and for you, in mine

jai guru deva