Low Life Kingdom - Benjamin Gibbard, Jay Farrar

Settling down with warm-glow woodstove and kerosene

peace you’re looking for, peace you’ll find

in the tangled mad cliff-sides and crashing dark of big sur

Rapturous ring of silence pacific fury flashing on the rocks, the sea shroud

towers

the innocence of health and stillness in the wild of big sur

This whole surface of the world as we know it now

will be covered with the silt of a billion years in time

And I see as much as doors will allow

A long way from the Beat generation

Here comes the nightly moth who is nightly dead in Big Sur

Best thing to do is not be false the rocks of the valley have no howl of

complaint

And I’m just a sick clown and so is everybody else in Big Sur