I took to the highway

Went out to Pico-Crenshaw


Old friends, old friends



I took to the highway

The highway took to me

Like a second skin



Rolled around in the evening

Circling like a buzzard

Trouble in mind



Excavating the space

We left behind



Yes, I took trinkets with me

Left them by the crater

Here ghosts, old ghosts



Smelled all the chlorine

I took the low road

Where the light is just right



Crawled around in the glowing

all-embracing wreckage

Sun-burned and snow-blind



Excavating the space

We left behind

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