I wish I'd known all along: nothing for the singer, all for the song. My heart skips a beat when I look at these blue mountains. "Thou shalt not covet anything that belongs to thy neighbor." Those were my thoughts as I stole you a beer and drove you home in my one-eyed car. I was so open-minded--my brain was at my shoes. There was a time when we had everything to lose. What did we do? We drank, we smoked, we slept, we knew: We are worth nothing. Did you think that mommy would by your backbone for you? What a fool! She doesn't owe you anything, and I don't know you. There's no sweater contains these hivers, no shade in no summer me crave no river. What my travels taught me was how to find what I need when it's before me. So when I'm 40--not too far from now--I'm going to leave my wife and my teenage daughters and move to the beach. In short: I won't know me anymore.