I’ve got a little place to myself up on Stony Ridge
I got it made in the shade
I sleep in the afternoon, leave my bed unmade
No-one breathing down my neck, black coffee and a shave
I whistle a little of whatever AM radio plays
As for letters and provisions…
Well it’s a long walk to the corner shop
In the January heat, it’s a big decision
To either think of you, or not.— The Triffids, New Year’s Greetings