after the last right
when there should have been a tight
turn away from friends
who use you for ends
meet as feet stomp in time to
music in your head flies
in the air of belief, worry
through all this hurry
away from loneliness and struggle
from homeless people huddling
on the streets of New York city
always hated that town
how its gray, how i frown when
the brooklyn bridge sways then
i long for the green
of the country scene though
surburbia suits me best
I wish for Seattle or Texas
where the green is precious and
the desert is never there where
everyone hears the wind blown hair
of the girl in the seat next to you
sitting wondering what you're going to do
to her as you race along the high
way as she worries if she been left.
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