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