The same thing and the sky is rust so you know Who’s outside or who owns the dog and then the skyĪnd someone’s mother, must be yours, saysĪnd then everybody else’s mother comes out and says Or neighborhood dogs bite those not from your neighborhoodĪnd someone with some sense says Down, Boy, Rust-not too red, not too orange-not fire or overnightĬhange in which children play till they tire ![]() You’re putting your hands together you’re on your feet-īecause you recognize a sound, like a light, Recognize the tune and before you know it, To the Chief of Police, to give him somethingĪs I try to recall the light in Doris Day’s versionīut then you get back to the hook, you suddenly This has nothing to do with driving a car.īut, instead, I tell myself to write a letter I’m here, in his town, with my Yankee tags. To Sly and his Family covering Doris’s hit, ![]() ![]() The Bicentennial, I got my first kiss that year, In my car, driving through Black Mountain,
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