Standing in the middle of the five and dime
forgetting what I came in for.
Sometimes I think I’ve lost my mind,
but how can you really be sure?
Everyone around me is slowing down
I’m pushing my pedal to the floor.
Picking myself a Wild Irish Rose
that’s growing right here in the store.
That bottle of wine was four fifty nine.
with tax, four eighty three.
If it was just four fifty nine, that bottle’d been mine,
but with tax, it was just out of reach.
So I bummed a dime from a passerby.
Paper bag? Why yes sir please.
I hope the stars above got room enough
for my Wild Irish Rose and me.
I walked alongside Lewis Creek
just thinking about skipping stones.
Sat a while by the railroad tracks
until a train whistle move me on.
I climbed to the top of Gypsy Hill,
drank my fill and made my home.
So just think of me if you happen to see
that empty bottle of Wild Irish Rose.