Across the freeway flow

Against the western row

On ploding shoes i go

To steal you out of tow

On the phone i swear

And so i will do so



Up the access stair

To cash my paycheck there

And down again to fare

The dirty city glare

Through the motor squall

To the south i bear



Past the chola wall

Swift and not to stall



Beyond the burning tires

Among the towering spires

I say that i will go

And so i will do so

Down the barren lanes

Heed the boarded panes



To the hard window

There to sign below

Alone there i will go

And put the money down

To take you back to town

On the phone i swear

Not to tell your dad