Take me disappearing through the smoke rings of my mind, on the radio waves of childhood. Go lightly from the ledge, babe. Go lightly on the ground, as friendships stayed or strayed through confusion and glory of youth. Heading out for the East Coast Lord knows I’ve paid some dues gettin’ through. One October meanwhile, deep in adulthood, in another part of town me and a couple of friends are driving around, and no idea what kind of shit is about to go down. Buckets of moonbeams in my hand. You got all the love, honey baby, I can stand.