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Four feet up a river, seeking out a spring.
Gazing at the times that passed
and what the future’d bring.

Cobain sang, he was driving.
Dirt road, beside him, she was trying to make a movie.
Rock city rolled just outside of town.
Hadn’t a worry ‘bout how it would all go down.
He was singing about the sun.

Moseyed down a river, searching for a spring.
Passing people, couple dogs,
some wouldn’t say a thing.

He thinks. For once, there wasn’t a thought in me.
So, this was never supposed to go down like that.
I go there all the time, it’s one of my favorite memories.
Just trying to make a movie.

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