Honey, tell me how your love runs true
and I can always count on you
to be there when the bullets fly
I’d run across the river just to hold you tonight
You had eleven minutes to grab what’s most important in your life and get the fuck out, and as you hung out in the In N Out parking lot trying to figure out where you and your animals should spend the night, a jeep pulled up next to you with the stereo blaring. You were so confused. The song which you had been playing on repeat for days, maybe weeks was coming from the radio in the Jeep. You looked at the driver and passengers, young cowboys not more than 22, and why where they listening to this song, it’s from 2017, and now? When this song has meant everything to you?
The Jeep drove away and you were still confused as to whether that had really happened. You took it as a sign that everything would be alright.
You spent the night at a co-worker’s who took you and your animals in, you tossed and turned wondering the fate of your house. By morning evacuation orders had been lifted and the wind had taken the fire away from your house. You were then convinced the song had been a prayer, sending the wind northeast, exactly away from your house.
Well, my hart is sweating bullets
From the circles, it has raced
Like a little feathered Indian
Calling out the clouds for rain
My Love is for the Birds - Sketches 