Birdhouse

Waking up naked 

Out on the beach when

we were still children 

Riding our bikes 

I’m sure you’ve seen him 

Work on the weekends 

He’s got more muscles 

And that’s what you like 

Guess who I’m sleeping with 

No room for Jesus—shit

We were just freezing...

In mid July 

I’ll catch you creeping 

Over to Freeman’s 

I’m still the kid who’s got 

Love on his mind 

I’m still the kid who’s 

riding his bike 

The Licks