06-05-2004, 11:53 AM
The Bush Pilot
May 05 2004
She was the cat. I was the dog.
She was perfect. I was defective.
She was graceful. And I lumbered.
She was kempt. I was gnarled.
She was high-maintenance. I wasn't.
She was clear. I was garbled.
She was sharp. I was blurred.
She was the muse. I was the bard.
She was the good girl. I was the bad boy.
She was the rebel princess.
I was the smuggler with a bounty.
She was the rich, high-class dame
And I was the bush pilot.
She needed to go up
To Nahanni National Park
To find her husband's headless corpse.
He was panning for gold
And I just knew the area.
An intimacy was formed
When the plane crashed
And we had to live in the wilds.
Alone.
Together.
With nothing but our virtues.
With nothing but our sins.
And the mighty Mackenzie.
May 05 2004
She was the cat. I was the dog.
She was perfect. I was defective.
She was graceful. And I lumbered.
She was kempt. I was gnarled.
She was high-maintenance. I wasn't.
She was clear. I was garbled.
She was sharp. I was blurred.
She was the muse. I was the bard.
She was the good girl. I was the bad boy.
She was the rebel princess.
I was the smuggler with a bounty.
She was the rich, high-class dame
And I was the bush pilot.
She needed to go up
To Nahanni National Park
To find her husband's headless corpse.
He was panning for gold
And I just knew the area.
An intimacy was formed
When the plane crashed
And we had to live in the wilds.
Alone.
Together.
With nothing but our virtues.
With nothing but our sins.
And the mighty Mackenzie.
