This must be the place: Instead of insight, maybe all a man gets is strength to wander for a while
What’s that feeling you get pulling back up in front of your humble abode after weeks away, wandering and pondering?
This must be the place: I’ve been running so long on the same old ground, gonna rattle these chains till the morning light
Sitting down at the old wooden kitchen table in the kitchen of my parents’ farmhouse in rural Upstate New York, all is quiet save for the sounds of the burping coffee pot on the counter and a few birds in the trees outside the nearby screen door.
