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