Just outside Phoenix there's an old man on his stoop with his two best friends
They aint much for talking.
One's all bones
t'other's all thumbs.
Pickin on the slide and rockin back and forth
nowhere to go on this dusty sunset.
Sun goin down. Iron's on the stove.
Just hours of stretch in every direction.
Flat empty and quiet.
Grits and sunny side at dusk.
For forty friends, and forty strangers.
Ain't such a lonesome place if you just sit down
shut up
and enjoy riding the curve goin nowhere fast.
Take the 4:30 rush by sandal and sunshine
quittin time's when I turn the sign.