Yesterday I embraced this song without words while sitting on that Tahoe beach. The boastful cumulonimbi's surface, not unlike popcorn, seemed to breathe. Expansion and contraction. It lingered and threatened, but in the late afternoon it became nothing more than a passing thought, leaving an empty blue stage for the setting sun.
Afterwards, we ate pizza and recollected the game of charades where, in response to the clues, the participants guessed The Jar Leg when the solution was The Martian.
