Hello Halifax. Nice to see you. Even the sun greets me with a smile. Late September days bring tidings of a fall that waits in the wings for its grand entrance to the main stage in this gorgeous festival of the spinning globe. But just for today we have an encore of sunshiny goodness pouring down from the heavens above onto to a grassy graveyard under my feet in the city of my birth. As I trample above the bones and caskets and peruse the headstones I get sleepy and even more sleepy until I take a nap among the dead. I dream of ghosts and electricity and explosions and beautiful wooden ships on a glassy harbor all sailing to nowheresville. It feels so good to sleep like I've never really slept until today and I've lost control of my limbs. It's so quiet I can hear the wings of a butterfly as she flaps away in beautiful figure eights with each wing representing a classic work of art. The butterfly lands on my nose and I can't even raise my hand to touch it. I'm helpless and falling into a deep hole that's opened up below me. I'm underground napping with the dead. It's eerie cold and quiet but I can hear the dusty wheezing breaths of the ones who refuse to surrender. They look at me with hollow eyes and try to reach out for help. I can't run and I can't move. They want company and I don't want to be here anymore but I can't seem to wake up. It smells like death and old buried money. I hear people walking above me. Some are giggling and some are crying. The world is a cold cruel place but I'm hungry for more. My eyes are twitching and one of them is open. Now the other. I can see! There's an old man in a flannel shirt raking leaves. I'm so happy I'm awake. I hope I never fall asleep again. I play a show in Halifax on Wednesday evening at The Carleton. See ya there or maybe in a dream with skeletons and undertakers.