Log Cabin in L.A.

My love and I love an early autumn stroll
Where the sky scrapers sway in the wind
Walk along the path where the blacktop river rolls
In a criss-crossed checker board that never ends
  It's not so long til the winter
  We'll pull our chairs round the barrel
We'll play games and read stories out loud
In our little log cabin in downtown L.A.

When the springtime comes we will plow the flower box
And plant another packet of seeds
They may pave over all the other dirt
But they can't drive the country out of me
  There's a park with a red brick lawn
  Where a bird sings in the lonely tree
We stroll down to the backless bench
From our little log cabin in downtown L.A.

Clear water flows through the pipes in the walls
And gushes out into our water pot
Boil up a kettle of a licorice tasting brew
From the herbs we gathered in the vacant lot
  The angels paint the sky with glory
  As the night rises out of the sea
We sip our tea in the window seat
Of our little log cabin in downtown L.A.

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