ahm locked in tight and outta range

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So I'm floating 'round the curves, and crooning to the trees, remembering this road in a Porsche some thirty years ago or so, and the Rolling Stones are butting-in to the Dylan I've been hearing all week, mixing metaphors the whole way home. Kept thinking of the image of The Residents at the falls and how much better I wanted to make it, and couldn't because I wasn't on my machine, and about certain moments in these trees over the course of my life, times with my emotions so far out past my skin they were scraping the bark as I drove, shredding me, turning me into the woods. I was making good time and I was hungry. So I stopped in at the 101 Cafe in Scotia for lunch and the song that had been butting in all the way up the Avenue of the Giants came on the radio. I yelled, "Karma!" and the cook cranked it up loud, and we all sang, even the old geezer hunched over his tuna salad sandwich....