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the grape harvest is over

from pink turban by Bob Keith

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lyrics

The grape harvest’s over I've got no plans to be sober
Until my pockets stop sagging with the pittance I've saved
One last drink with Frankie and one last kiss from Mona
Then farewell to Mildura and the few friends I've made

Then it's into the car riding high in the saddle
I'm chasing bad money and making no plans
Sometimes it seems I've been alone since the cradle
Then the road opens up like a welcoming hand

Then I load up the wagon with the dog and some flagons
My backseat come bedroom is full of old dreams
And it's southward we'll travel coughing red dust and gravel
Held together with wire and feeling strained at my seams

When I'm in this old car I feel like one of the cowboys
Out riding the ranges in the night all alone
Taking my chances with no backward glances
Following nobody's rules but my own

I've got just enough money to get to Moloney's
Where the sea wind spits ice through the holes in my clothes
Near the old dead volcano I'll dig the potatoes
The deep mud has fingers that clutch weary bones

Sometimes I stop and I stare at the night sky
Just me and the kelpie and the cold distant stars
And sometimes it seems like it's all just an alibi
Stopping me thinking and feeling too hard

Then it's into the car riding high in the saddle
I'm chasing bad money and making no plans
Sometimes it seems I've been alone since the cradle
Then the road opens up like a welcoming hand

credits

from pink turban, released July 4, 2015

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Bob Keith Melbourne, Australia

Bob Keith is a Melbourne based songwriter with one foot still in the country

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