Saturday Night Heaven

sometimes the music takes me back,

to a world where everything

was much easier,

or at least that was the perception,

a time when it was just

rock and roll;

nothing more,

nothing less;

friday afternoon, pre-football rituals

will never be the same,

forever lost

in the backseats of 69 chevys,

doing whatever it took

to get up for the big game;

so much won and lost

under crisp, gray skies,

as afternoon shadows

grew longer,

waiting for empty tomorrows

which never came;

lime green mustangs,

quarts of pabst blue ribbon,

mini cigars,

8 track tapes,

black oak arkansas,

teenage hormones,

anticipation

of what was to come;

saturday night heaven.

.

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