Windy City Run

The night is young, our thoughts are gone and we start off with a long sweet song

The Chicago air breathes fresh life into us, immortalizing our egos that of Grant and Kelly

With every eager step, we walk the town with crumpled brown news letters that fly the skies like a dancing silhouette, the night can only get better

With Frankie in my head, the best has yet to come and we're really feeling too damn good as we should

The tall red goddess, we call Persephone, she handles me, no matter how far up

As she towers over me, we glee with sweet symphony to Davis's Blue in Green

Swaying to the beat so effortlessly with the sax to our back, we're feeling stacked

She wants to paint the town green with what her momma dubs it, her effervescent zeal and tonight of all nights, this redheaded dame is for real

We grace Addison and Clark with our presence as a few cocktails earlier hit the spot

Before we go, we must stand before to pay the respects of the good ole cub that stands in gold, with love, Mr. Banks. 

Bar after bar for miles, its to the wonder, as many patrons drink and incept to self-plunder

But we've had our fill 

We are immersed with a windy city chill, cool and crisp, she burrows deep within me

Sounds of the nightlife fades behind us, into the horizon with a soft, faint hum

She leans into my ear, "rattle and rum"

The mood sets, the curtain is closing

We digress into one another 

As always Chicago, its been fun