hobo jungle

out on the edge of town

where the waters run down

down where the weeds grow high

north of the county line

there's a place I've never seen

but I hear it's pretty mean

and they call it hobo jungle

back when I was a kid

I remember my mama said

son. if you don't start walking straight

boy, it'll be your fate

to end up like those men

whose lives come to an end

down in hobo jungle

Fuck, man, I don't know where the fuck to go with this fuckin' song. I mean, I've had those verses forever. And they still need work. But I think they've got potential. I just don't know where to go from there.

What advice would you give yourself, farmboy?

Follow through with what feels natural. Don't force it. Maybe I need to do some timed writing, like it says in those Natalie Goldberg books. Some free writing, maybe. But it feels like I'm fishing in the dark here.

And that's okay, farmboy. I like the idea of following what feels natural.

Yeah. I'll keep on with it. I really like the melody I've got, and I like the verses I have, no matter how imperfect they may be.

It'll come.

It won't be for lack of trying, that's for sure.