Song for Alistair

I think of summer festivals, I think of double dates
I think of being searched by cops outside the prison gates
I think of dark-haired women, one or two or maybe four
I think of singing songs together, planning to sing more
I think of Queensland summer, swimming in cool waters
With you and me and Woodford and Athena’s daughters
I think of driving down the highway feeling like the lucky few
I think of Grevious Angels, Gram and Emmylou

I think of Maralinga and the BLF
Seventh chords in open tunings and the mighty treble clef
I think of 1917 and the red flag flying high
Above the streets of Glasgow, beneath a blood-rеd sky
I think of Roaring Jack and how you would repine
Of decadеs fueled in equal parts by politics and wine
I think of meeting friends, both old and very new
I think of driving down the highway with Gram and Emmylou

I think of Aotearoa, gazing at the stars
I think of that drunken driver who totalled our car
I think of playing in the Bunker, how that audience had spunk
Half of them old folkies, half of them young punks
I think of all the miners who slowly fade away
I think about the moment when I heard it was your day
I think about this CD that I got from you
When I’m driving down the highway with Gram and Emmylou
Driving down the highway with Gram and Emmylou