Summer

I swear to the summer- I am a well-aged drummer... Like liver and pee's, like grease on the tree's, like sweet tarts and tea. I swear to the summer- I am a well-aged drummer... Like listeners without runners, like dangerous men without gunners- don't be naked just be funner, don't be jaded just act like your comin', I swear to the summer- I need no real number, I swear to your comin'- I love the leader and all the wanderer, and the fisherman, and the ponderer, and the drinker, and the blunderer. I swear to the summer, I am a well aged drummer, I can take away your lumber, and burn it like a hunter- I can turn it into something, that I saw in the light of the reflection, I can see you dance well in the mist, of nature's best kiss, and resist when you need the fist, and reminisce, even though I am just a man, and I have never felt the mix. Like a tall building that hasn't been built yet, like an animal that hasn't been born yet, like man with his child, like women with her mild- life has a style, you have it and you fill, in the mind- and the child... Just to say it again you have been the smile, and your love makes me wild- and your hugs hold for miles, and your fun takes the pile, and even though you're gone now I can stay for a while, and sway in the reef when the tide lifts me, and feel the knees when I become weak, and be too much when too much hits me- and sleep when god reads me...