BP Exec Puts Down the Pelican at Hand and Extemporizes a Country Western Lyric

It felt good to love in Memphis--
it ain't the King that came between us.
Unless you mean King Laugh or the King of the Road.
I loved big but never easily. This breezy love was freezing me,
until one breeze was one too many, and I up and blowed.

And tonight she's looking for me,
but she's dangerously lonely.
And she could could come to grievous harm
just to spend the night in someone's loving arms.
But it's fire: you can't love safely,
and tonight she's dangerously lonely.
And that's as close to fire as a heart can be
without ever getting warm.

Did the same breeze blow me back around
or was it always her in every town?--
the queen of each last cigarette and each frozen first light?
She was in every gray and every green and every blue
until I fell out with or fell into
every woman who wasn't you, which mostly felt alright.

But tonight...

You take the weight of holding onto dreams
or the weight of loving lesser things,
the pain of every time you hit the ground
or the fear of ever falling down.
You walk until you walk the mountains near
or watch until you wait the water clear.
But know that woman that you haven't found
is the woman with both arms around you
and both feet on the ground.

And tonight she's looking for me,
but she's dangerously lonely,
and she could could come to grievous harm
or she could spend the night in someone's loving arms.
But it's fire: you can't love safely,
and tonight she's dangerously lonely.
And that's as close to fire as a heart can be
without ever getting warm.