America To Yer Left

Go on, you got
America to yer left
and all it's dreams fading with daylight
stretching between beautiful two lanes
off to pin-point behind those pupils
so let the wind blow mountains
back into yer
face

or maybe the air will stand still
blanketing that land of choked Myths
and you can make yer own weather pattern
tracking Jersey across America's
doorsteps like broken glo-sticks
cause there's dirt waiting to get in those shoes,
and earth waiting to be scorched,
trees to pass out against,
over-coffee background conversations to
make you see stories like fingerprints
laid out over
every set of keys nervously twirled
waiting for a strong breeze to blow

I hear they got a whole 'nother
ocean over there
and earthquakes and scientologists
and cities built
on the backs of Angels
or on a dangerous tilt


so when you get back,
i wanna hear about the great west
and it's apple pie
and pure white vanilla ice cream