There's more to this little brown bottle than the sunshine within,
and if you search across the hills of Kalamazoo
you'll find the meaning of gold.
Cheers to this:
the smell of barbecue and grass
and the taste of oranges drenched in ale
and sunlight.
As the fire crackles
and the flames move like the flags we claim,
I can hear each individual string
on a friend's guitar
as they tell a story of an everlasting summer.
When it's cold
the sun smiles and burns
as the sound of cannonballs piercing aqua blue waves
washes through your body
clad in pink
skin,
and fabrics
seen from many
and any
wandering eye.
As the hi-hat sizzles,
so too does your soul,
and that's why you can't help but
dance dance dance.
But just like any season,
this friendly brown bottle
is a moment in time.
Winter must come,
people must go,
but somewhere in the recipe for your favorite drink
are all of their names
glistening in gold.
From Kalamazoo, with love.