This End Up

Dear Brad, it's finally spring down here in Chattanooga, and I'm writing to you very late at night.

I have just one kerosene lamp, and the bugs outside are positively battering the screen at my elbow,

trying to get at the light, like so many people we knew in San Francisco, trying to find love.

The boys down here walk around town in just blue jeans and cowboy boots, lanky, long-limbed southern boys.

Yeah, sure. - Well, hop on in.