I wrote this while procrastinating bottling honey this past week. The original two-chord progression was for something completely different, but then the "fifths" happened and before I knew it I was making something new.

The feeling and then the lyrics came from a recent conversation in Ashland, Oregon with some farmers: they were complaining about homeless people pooping in the Rogue River which is creating an E. coli situation for the farmers and everyone else. The brutal fire season in California has been on my mind as well…