Pave Paradise

How many miles until I get out of this rectangular box of hell?

Because these four same faces

in these overcrowded spaces

have me praying for the places

that will leave me one minute to myself

(along with)

the foreheads glued to window-panes

the sore-backs from kitchen-wood floors

And all the sitting, sitting, sitting in a van -- and yet I still want more?

When there's a million more miles to roam,

I think of the life left for me back home:

A "paradise" to watch their "greener grass" grow,

and all the time to be alone...?

But two weeks home cripple me

because the trees don't pass

and the lines don't move

as the white walls collapse

on my ramblin' boy blues that's howlin'

howlin' for that open road because

no arms can hold

no home can warm

like the gaze of the rays of a distant lost-highway sun.

When there's a million more miles to roam,

I think of the life left for me back home:

A "paradise" to watch their "greener grass" grow,

and all the time to feel alone.

pave paradise

put the keys in

turn the engine

let the big green van drive me from this city

to anything but simplicity

To anywhere from this city,

To anything but simplicity.