Single track trails fork and split into three,
Lying just outside our fair cities,
Beautiful so called, cedars and all oak trees,
Well I guess I'll follow them
Maybe we quit saying what good is,
I see a freeway of cut glass,
Are you believing something sad?
Don't ever you quit saying what good is.
Cinder block walls, bank the length of the road
Lying just outside of our window
Making me feel small, city of rooftop calls
On a numbered day I left
Home for dinner out on the backyard porch - nice night.
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