Thumb tacks spread outnAcross your hometown statenHollow tree at half mastnWait until wintertimenLeaves a paper trail a licorice plant that's overgrownnnLike a cabin in the woods on a minornLike a minor holidaynnWool rich red plaid wolfnIrish whiskey glassnHere comes my fine bright haired lassnLike a trash fire burning and burning itnMy heart could never right the words never failnnTucked under your cap and for a momentnThere's a stillness before the room spins againnMinor holiday, spin it againnRide it out so you can tellnnWasted on the weekendnMaking good time with my excusenWhere the plot lines are like dead endsnFloating in her eyes at the bottom of a wellnFloating in her eyes ride it out for a spellnnMinor holidaynTransfer this weightnMinor holidaynTransfer this weightnGoing back and forthnOn a minor, minor holiday