Storm

After the storm

We’ll all need to dry out

And the forecast will be

Sunny and fair

After the storm

We’ll have a big parade

And the smell of victory will be in the air

We’ll march in the sun

And listen to speeches

Life will be a bowl of cream and peaches

After the storm

We’ll be sucking on Swallows

And driving our trucks in the sand

We’ll redraw the maps

Wear snappy new caps

A gentle breeze will blow o’er the land

We’ll pack up our things

Maybe get married

Throw off that weak, wussy

Feeling we carried

Bring it all home

In a bag to be buried

After the storm

After the storm

The flowers will grow

And pastures of plenty we’ll see

We’ll dig a few holes

Heat up a few coals

And have a big barbecue feed

We’ll shine up our cars

Drive in the sun

Pitch a tent in the woods

And make a beer run

If somebody wants something

We might just give ’em some

After the storm

We’ll march in the sun

And listen to speeches

And life will be a bowl of cream and peaches

Stan Ridgway, “After the Storm,” Holiday In Dirt