Odds are yll get lost at 22
And find yrself somewhere like Jackson, WY
And the light will turn red
And yll forget what that means
A pretty lady will float by
And yll enter some sort of inner wind storm
Yll call her a flower among sagebrush
And shell bloom til ya run outta water
Then yll start lookin for a barstool that allows for as few neighbors as possible
Yll get drunk and stay that way until the cattle inside again huddle under a shelter belt
The cold water will splash and yll hear the redemptory beeps of a tow truck
And the sun will come up over the mountains in the distance and yll feel truly good
And one day yll be 35 and how will these mountains look then and better yet how will you
Best you stick around, partner, find out