Oh that night you locked me out on the street
I was rueful and anxious
Went stumbling along with a buck in my palm
To tip a bartender thankless
Mumbling drunk through a sea of words
I was searching for purpose
The night was alive and young
But the air still burned like a furnace
Tried to find the door
Where my old man came of age in Sacramento
Took a rest at a store with a red tile floor
Bought some warm green Jello
There’s a woman in rust
Collecting change for a bus to get her home
She’s a bit uneasy
But don’t mind the feeling of being alone
I’m tired and aimlessly roam
There’s nowhere I’m looking to go
I just follow the lines of the road
I follow the lines of the road