WORDS

SHORTIE 187 

There’s a stop ahead. There’s a big red sign.

As I ease the brakes up to the thin white line.

The oak trees grow though the sidewalks still.

I’ll go again. I know I will.

 

Forward moving. Something’s gone, but always near.

Shortie one eighty seven was here.

 

You can dam the flow when the river’s high.

When it rains again, it’ll split the sides.

I feel like that when I think of me.

Like there’s someplace else I’m supposed to be.

 

I could carve my name before I die.

Out of chiseled stone, 10 miles high.

Wouldn’t change a thing in the scheme of things.

Still got to relocate. Got to spread my wings.

 

Forward moving. Something’s gone, but always near.

Shortie one eighty seven was here.

 

Something’s gone. Something’s gone. 

 

Forward moving. Something’s gone, but always near.

Shortie one eighty seven was here.

Forward moving. Something’s gone, but always near.

Shortie one eighty seven was here.

 

 

Tim Ellis - Acoustic Guitar / Solo

Tracey Harris - Bg Vx (Lead Vx on bridge)

Albert Reda - Bass

Jim Walker - Acoustic Guitar, Keys, Percussion, Sfx, Lead Vx, Bg Vx