Peninsulated


I got big skies above me
I got all kinds of time
I got a penchant for purgatory/limbo
And Cancun on my mind

Snow drifting higher
Months of winter to go
Miles of lines left to scribble
About some place far from the snow

Think back to last summer
Where the sunlight began
I got all kinds of peninsulas
All kinds of promised lands / Yucatans

Sandcastles on snowdrifts
Snowmen on the sands
Mayans and Eskimos
Me here wringing my hands

I got big skies above me
I got all kinds of time
I got a handfull of things
I gotta do before I die

	and my hands are getting fuller every day
	
	and I got big big hands...	and you know what they say

					and you know what they say

					and you know what they say