Potrero Road

You can drive up from the ocean and the road curves hard and steep
The oak trees disappering as the houses start to creep
Up the sweeping fields of sourgrass, the sagebrush stay aloof
They’re carried to these sacred hills on leather boots and hooves
And what will you tell the young men who are quietly conversing
The sun sinking low on the images they are commonly nursing?
There’s no discussing consequence; the hammer on your thumb
And not about destinations, but where we come from
If we died tonight, my lover
There could never be another night like tonight
'Cause the world you’ve spent this life preparing for
Doesn’t even exist behind my eyes
In the darkness at the end, sister, I’ll kiss your golden hair
I’ll hold the gate and watch you dance into the crystal air
And I’ll just disappear…