Design Your Own Container Garden

The Mountain Goats

I took to the highway

Went out to Pico-Crenshaw

Old friends, old friends



I took to the highway

The highway took to me

Like a second skin



Rolled around in the evening

Circling like a buzzard

Trouble in mind



Excavating the space

We left behind



Yes, I took trinkets with me

Left them by the crater

Here ghosts, old ghosts



Smelled all the chlorine

I took the low road

Where the light is just right



Crawled around in the glowing

all-embracing wreckage

Sun-burned and snow-blind



Excavating the space

We left behind