South

There she goes again
The old woman with her Irish Setter friend
Her hair's the color of his fur
(I can't tell, though, maybe that's a her)
They're always walking down the lane
Each time I'm at my windowpane
I'm wondering, maybe they're possessed?
An omen? Spies with lies to test?
But maybe they're okay?
Or a sign that things are goin' great?
Why you always takin' it south?
Why you always takin' it south, boy?

You see a girl's shoe in the woods
And say, "Now how can that be good?"
But hey, couldn't it have been a game
Of friends daring friends during a field trip?
Or snowmelt-displaced trash?
Might I just suggest not taking the worst from the best?
Why you always takin' it south?

An invitation's at the door
And you scream, "What is this for?"
But hey, maybe it's a ticket to a memory yet to be?
Or a card with a stunning photograph?
Or a clever line that makes you laugh?
I'd like to request you stop mixing the cursed with the blessed
I'd like you to stop takin' it south