There's many songs to be sung
In the living room I sit and draw the quiet ones
There's a heavy heated sun
As we swim out pass the buoy that clearly says "DON'T"
Away over the neon lawn the screen print colors fade.
Later today we trade glances as the party goer's clothing sways.
Back on the old I-5
The night shifts into morning time
There's swelling on the stereo and your letters on my mind.
Pass the confusing signs, and all the tall green pines.
Fresh water in the bottle and the one we left behind
There's no monument
I will never forget, but
There is no monument.