You can only drive across America, back and forth, up and down it’s Mountains and Coasts a few times before you want to pen a song about the beauty. And then you can only travel around the world a bit more, before you come back and want to write a song about the beauty and the little song grid of freedom you discover folded into the geographic structure of it’s grasses and hills. And then comes a time when you run into Woody Guthrie’s music, well maybe you heard it before and liked it, but this time you are a little older and more traveled and you realize the power behind those simple songs and the radical humanist vision chasing down those trains. And in there you here that same power grid of freedom and deep radical nature that seems to be singing to you from the Rocky mountain tops, the Redwood forests, the Gulf stream waters, and, well, you all know that song. And so you can only go so long with all that rattling around your brain before you want to write a song about that too.