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.