Bridge just south of town
they've been working on it for years now
just about finish up 'fore it occurs to anyone
they built that damn thing just about a foot off the ground
way way higher than the road around
so if you happen down that highway, 'specially at night
hit the bridge at fifty-five
feel like you might just take flight
and every time the crossing comes as a surprise
see my flying
I've found quiet in this room
down by where the trains run
i've learned to hear the rumble, long before it
comes
and the things i'm working on
are invisible to everyone
something 'bout an empty hip or the angle of the sun
every time the crossing comes as a surprise
see me flying
Maybe these stitches in my throat
have just about dissolved
like the sad moan of the drunkard
walking home from the bar
i hear the thin song of the fire house
when they sound the alarm
i hear the church bells on sunday... ringing out
Used to be a town of dirt and horses
now it's all liquor and cars
there's still a whole lot of nothing
up between those stars
take the dog out for a walk
on the episcopal church lawn
my god we're still tryin' to find a way
to get ourselves beyond
and every time the crossing comes as a surprise
see me flying