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We're All Looking For Our June Carter

Picby Marc Lionhart05 Feb 2014

When she looks at you, you'll drop everything, to find her
You'll marvel at her, beyond all comprehension she'll take you into her helter-skelter ride rinse and repeat until you hit your threshold
We're looking, when she looks back, we're looking for her
We hold our guitars and play against the street climate, the political rousing between artists
She was worth it, so yours will be too
Your very own June Carter, your very own autoharp playing country singer
Swamped by detained protesters controlled by an unimaginable state, barred and forgotten
What would you do if June was with them?
The crowd ahead of you will not shift, they can barely see
Except for June, who is facing towards you
You don't perform to those with their backs to you, so perform to her, she's clear in the midst and needs you to see
It's a search we'll all be involved with
Cash in hand, held tight in your pockets. Buy her a drink or write her a song, your choice
Just don't let her stop looking at you
Your very own June Carter
Your very own wildwood flower
Minds are racing now, as you both question the truths and motives you behold, eye-watering pain suffered in each others glare but still standing strong clutching the closeness she lends
No June is like your June, but 2003 wasn't the end of the world remember?
You could sail the world around and return to that same coffee shop, every week never needing a story, just the expression she fires at you, praises you and hides behind her scarf
Have we all seen enough? The public look on but they have their backs turned, so we perform only for each other
We've already proclaimed the end of the world, so as it floods us we should be grateful we have found each other
This is the search we all conduct, we all orchestrate his or her arrival, script in hand, lines forgotten
June is coming. Where we may lie in the fields and sing
Look at her hair sway, she's all yours
Even if it is over for you, others are still searching
Be as merry as you like, this may just be the start of it all. The start of that arbitrary journey
He or She may be gone, but we're still looking