Unbrushed teeth after a seventeen-hour trip 

Damn Good Tacos filled with mango sauce 

And hands smelling of corn tortilla 

Est-ce que ça te va ?  

 

Yellow tiles with brownish stains  

But madcap merch and best restrooms in the state 

Smell of kolaches, grilled nuts and brisket sandwiches 

Bright sign high in the sky  

Proud supporter of the Beaver’s Empire 

 

Warm sweat dripping down the spine 

Fresh then freezing breeze of the unchanged building  

Small iced coffee, two percent milk, no classic 

Taste of good old days 

Have a great summer the last one had said 

 

In the scorching humid heat, hot Chick–fil–A 

Roastin’, boilin’, grillin’, fryin’ 

In the old crematory 

Red turned brown fitted carpet 

Unique flavor – you bet 

 

Five p.m. lunch, let’s do chicken  

N’ buttery greasy bread 

N’ golden tasty mac and cheese 

A year and a half of missing it 

We’ll take three boxes - Extra-large please 

 

Let’s add an Amy’s ice-cream 

Pecan, fudge, and smell of old building as extra toppings 

Wet dogs, shuck corn, big hot dog 

Dirty bus, outrageous raspberry-filled donut 

Burger stuck in a jam, so American  

Vergeoise City, better than Paris 

La Madeleine across the street and moules frites 

To think that I hadn’t seen the hint.  

 

On the setlist  

Of September 6: 

I remember certain things 

What I was wearing 

Yellow dashes in the street  

I prayed those lights would take me home 

Then I heard, Hey Kid you’re  

                                                                Home.