곡 정보
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- Trout Fishing Again
- Brisa Roche
- Father
Cruising up Highway 395 from Los angeles
I've been working all week down there
Where it's so bright
Working, working, working
Seems like forever
Now there's nothing but the road to show my way
Helped by the stars and the moon and my own headlights
I don't know how far I've come, it's so hard to tell
But I'm heading for mile 395, right here on Highway 395
White mountains on the right, I can't see them
Sierras on the left, looming out there somewhere
Saw two headlights about an hour ago
Stopped at a bar where nobody stops
Driving, driving, driving
Way on up the virgin white valley
Betwaeen the Sierras and the Whites
Saw a deer, saw a bear, thought I saw a mountain lion
Darkness of the night and my eyes are getting blurry
Darkness in seventeen waves of color
Dark shadows in my peripheral vision
Dawn is coming soon
Must be at mile 343, got to keep on going
It's so damn dark and hot in the car
My hemi 383 is just loafing along
I'm going 95 and I know it's too fast
I want this trip to last and last
The shapes on the side of the road keep moving closer
There's no one else in sight
And I just blend with the darkness
But the sun is coming I know
John Muir is watching me go
I can't see the country, I only feel my coffee cup
The dark is changing, but I have forgotten why
A golden orb tips its beak over the White Mountains
Illuminating the Sierras, cutting my car in half
Just in time, wherever I am
Gravel under the tires, sagebrush on the road
So cold gray white I know everything is going to freeze
The big Brown trout is rising and I'll be there to greet him
If I can dodge all these shapes crossing the road
Between the dark and the light, the day and the night
I am arrived between the thighs of the mountain ridges
The water of snows and geysers trickle down the cleft
Hot and cold mixing to create
Tadpoles, frogs, mosquitos, rabbits, coyotes and trout
The Owens River flows abundantly to stagnate in Lake Crowly
Then flows down through the sliding high desert plain to LA
Back where I started from
Water then there nearly lifeless to quench the thirst of millions
But I amm higher up, between the thighs where life begins
The trout are rising, swimming up the Hot Creek
To convict lake, to Mammoth, to the Devil's Postpile
And beyond
I've been working all week down there
Where it's so bright
Working, working, working
Seems like forever
Now there's nothing but the road to show my way
Helped by the stars and the moon and my own headlights
I don't know how far I've come, it's so hard to tell
But I'm heading for mile 395, right here on Highway 395
White mountains on the right, I can't see them
Sierras on the left, looming out there somewhere
Saw two headlights about an hour ago
Stopped at a bar where nobody stops
Driving, driving, driving
Way on up the virgin white valley
Betwaeen the Sierras and the Whites
Saw a deer, saw a bear, thought I saw a mountain lion
Darkness of the night and my eyes are getting blurry
Darkness in seventeen waves of color
Dark shadows in my peripheral vision
Dawn is coming soon
Must be at mile 343, got to keep on going
It's so damn dark and hot in the car
My hemi 383 is just loafing along
I'm going 95 and I know it's too fast
I want this trip to last and last
The shapes on the side of the road keep moving closer
There's no one else in sight
And I just blend with the darkness
But the sun is coming I know
John Muir is watching me go
I can't see the country, I only feel my coffee cup
The dark is changing, but I have forgotten why
A golden orb tips its beak over the White Mountains
Illuminating the Sierras, cutting my car in half
Just in time, wherever I am
Gravel under the tires, sagebrush on the road
So cold gray white I know everything is going to freeze
The big Brown trout is rising and I'll be there to greet him
If I can dodge all these shapes crossing the road
Between the dark and the light, the day and the night
I am arrived between the thighs of the mountain ridges
The water of snows and geysers trickle down the cleft
Hot and cold mixing to create
Tadpoles, frogs, mosquitos, rabbits, coyotes and trout
The Owens River flows abundantly to stagnate in Lake Crowly
Then flows down through the sliding high desert plain to LA
Back where I started from
Water then there nearly lifeless to quench the thirst of millions
But I amm higher up, between the thighs where life begins
The trout are rising, swimming up the Hot Creek
To convict lake, to Mammoth, to the Devil's Postpile
And beyond
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