The pen you use to write the news
is running out of ink
Languid eyes and ten-cent smile

have you reaching for a drink
Next state line at a five-and-dime
a young father stares at his feet

He's selling his time on a factory line
while his children wander the street


The coffee's cold, the maps are old
you're poor, you're blind, and you're weak
But the road goes on and at every dawn

the journey's all you seek
While rich men play and spend away
the farmers are worked to the bone

And a young man's tune won't make it to you
cause he's told it's not his own


If the hopeless win
the summer winds will never blow the same
With an empty grin they'll pour your gin

and they'll never know your name

Curtains fall

the subway walls are plastered with the truth
Your crystal is bound to fall
and break the frame of youth

The girl next door's off by the shore
she's singing songs to the sea
If life's a bore, she'll show you more

you'll know what it is to be

When your story ends

your trusted friends will never throw the game
With a shaky grin they'll meet your kin
and they'll never know your name


At the dead-end road you'll drop your load
and lie down in the grass

You'll write an ode while your car is towed
and watch the seasons pass
A boy in blue will be named for you

he'll put on your cap and gown
He'll take his cue and plant a new the forest that you found


If the hopeless win
the summer winds will never blow the same
With and empty grin they'll pour your gin

and they'll never know your name.