goin’ down that long lonesome fourth street
past manicured lawns and barbecue grills
tucked away in perfectly kept back yards
by perfectly kept beautiful people with beautiful money
past the elementary school where I learned what I needed to learn
everything else that came later on was superfluous
past baseball fields with twisted metal fences as backstops
where I learned my baseball dreams weren’t going to come true
bowling alley red line red line beer frames
late nights, strikes, spares, spending time in the gutter
jimmy’s on the left--left a lot of cash in there
liquid lunches with friends from work and school
trying to avoid life which kept looking for me
like a detective with a grudge
by the oil refineries and steel mills where I once worked
but left for greener pastures that I haven’t found yet
up to the big city that promised much but delivered nothing
wearing pretty clothes 100 stories high
rode the train into the city--it never took long enough
job interviews for jobs I didn’t want
steel tracks reaching out past lifetimes of generations
now into the north country--why I don’t know
goin’ someplace cold and remote
