You are my pot of gold
The mint plant of life singing
I taste the soft breeze on my face
What would I do without Keith in Joshua Tree?
Though sometimes he is a dipshit
“Can I have a rainbow, Mom?”
The sweet stone of freedom beams me skyward
As we walk in the desert in order for democracy to be saved.
Do you smell that basil plant singing?
I am pricked by the cactus spikes every morning for breakfast
The arc melts into the future
Keith and Ditz will dance in fragile freedom
I see the olla de ora
The pot of gold calls out to us
Golden these years
Keith and Ditz sound like they have it going on!