| Looking out over the Carquinez Strait
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| At the only highrise building in Downtown Martinez
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| In-between that highrise and Port Costa and Crockett
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| There’s a long stretch of glorious mountains
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| Untouched by cement, untouched by man
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| The land is green, the land is brown
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| The view is sanguine, though the world’s been so down
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| It’s the beautiful California I’ve been dreaming about since I was a child
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| The trees are bunched together like broccoli stalks
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| Above them, dry patches, look like bright camel humps
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| The patches are dead weeds from the late-spring heat
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| That’s what the mountains look like today
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| And boats are sailing out along the white waves and the silver water
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| Fishing boats and sailboats and all kinds of barges
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| My favorite barge is enormous, the cover are white and navy
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| The name of the barge is Morning Cherry
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| Hovering the water are seagulls, and inland, there’s the vultures
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| The sky is blue, the air is mild
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| The cats are in by night, the coyotes run wild
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| This is the beautiful California I dreamed of as a child
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| Pacific, the hills, the lemon orange trees
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| Lately I’m feeling reticent, quiet, meditative and melancholy
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| Lately I’m feeling taciturn and uncommunicative
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| I’ve been spending time in bed laying still and listening to the wind
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| Listening to the train, the smell of the eucalyptus trees
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| Coming through my open windows and from my balcony
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| When I go walking I feel so frowzy
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| Oh my middle-aged, I feel it kicking in strongly
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| I feel aches in by bones and my posture has been lousy
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| By mid-afternoon, I’m always drowsy
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| So I’ll walk to the water and take my time walking back
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| I asked a fisherman on the peer, «Hey, what are you catching?»
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| They say, «Stripers and halibut.»
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| I say, «How do you have your poles rigged?»
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| He said, «30-pound test, and for bait we’re using sardines.»
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| Well one guy’s got a band called Box Blaster
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| And he plays, «Hey there lonely girl, lonely girl…» over and over
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| Everywhere I go, every drugstore, every gas station
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| They’re playing somebody’s version of, «Hey there lonely girl, lonely girl…»
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| By Eddie Holman, Donnie Osmond, Shaun Cassidy
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| I guess the radio’s playing what they feel are universal songs in the world
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| For the many women who’ve got cabin fever
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| And as for you, I’ll always feel love and fervor
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| And it never leaves, it’ll be there forever
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| Even when you’re sleeping across the bed and you leave me here
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| To read and write and meditate, I miss you so deeply my dear
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| Went crazy, I wish you were sleeping here beside me
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| Right now, today, but I guess it’s good to have our time away
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| Now and then I hear that train whistle blowing
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| From across the water or nearby, I hear a lawn getting mowed
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| Lately I’ve been reading John Fante’s West of Rome
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| When you got down time, you gotta keep your spirit and mind uplifted and intact
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| When you got down time, you gotta do what you can do to laugh
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| John Fante’s West of Rome, it makes me laugh
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| He’s got a dog named Stupid who tries to hump everything he sees
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| He’s got a wife that wants to leave him because John loves his dog, Stupid,
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| more than he loves any other thing
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| And every time I turn on the news, everything looks so hopeless and bleak
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| Black guys found hung in trees, it’s not the Jim Crow days anymore,
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| we’re talking about 2020
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| Black guy in Minnesota choked to death, another one shot in Georgia in the back
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| Watching TV all day is more toxic than smoking crack
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| But if I watched the news all day, I’m gonna have a panic attack
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| They’re looping scenes over and over and over and over, if I keep watching it
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| makes me feel wack
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| I care a lot, but I’m too old to be out messing around with protesting
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| Yeah, I’m 53, I’ve got nothing to prove, I’ve had blacks' backs since I was a
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| kid walking the streets of Downtown Massillon
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| I walked the tenderloin streets of San Francisco, I walked the streets of New
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| Orleans
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| And when we walked together, I’ve always felt nothing but love and harmony
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| I’ve got to enjoy the little things in life, like the way my cat scratches up
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| my favorite chair, and laugh
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| I’ve got to look at sunflowers and the orange and apple and lemon trees and
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| enjoy my salt baths
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| I’ve got to enjoy the California sun and the Bay Area breeze, you know?
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| And gaze at the water that flows between the mouth of Crockett and Vallejo
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| Wait for my favorite barge to dock, the big one, colored white and navy
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| The one that made my
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| , Morning Cherry |