I can't hold it on the road when you're sittin' right beside me,
And I'm drunk out of my mind merely from the fact that you are here.
Yeah, and I have not been known as the Saint of San Joaquin,
And I'd just as soon right now pull on over to the side of the road and show you what I mean.
La da da da da da da.
July, you're a woman, more than any one I've ever known.
Yeah, and I can't hold my eyes on the white line out before me
When you're hand is on my collar and you're talkin' in my ear.
Oh, and I have been around with a gypsy girl named Shannon, daughter of the devil.
It is strange that I should mention that to you, 'cause I haven't thought of her in years.
There's an interesting story behind this song. John recounts this - somewhat humorously - before the song on his Phoenix Concerts album. He was driving in his car when he met a hitch-hiker called Miranda. He asked her what her middle name was - she said 'July'.
In the present. The singer is on the road and the bloodlines of the previous song have been replaced by the lines of the road (cf 'Shackes'). The rolling rhythm of the song reflects the singer's moving forward than lingering on the past. The singer pulls his car over and stops though - and this causes him to think on the past again. He thinks of a gypsy girl named Shannon 'daughter of the devil'. This suggests a past loss of innocence as in earlier songs. The song is dominated by a more important loss - of the past in the present and the need to regain it. To carry on with his present romance he has to come to terms with his previous one (song as catharsis). This had been forgotten. The whole album though is about reclaiming the past,recognising the links and community that forged it. On the Phoenix Concerts album, before the July song, John recreates his inspiration for the song - his meeting with a hitchiker (Miranda July). This again shows the dramatic, personal nature of his songs.