Oh that night you locked me out on the street I was rueful and anxious Went stumbling along with a buck in my palm to tip a bartender thankless Mumbling drunk though a sea of words I was searching for purpose The night was alive and young and the air still burned like a furnace Tried to find the door where my old man came of age in Sacramento Took a rest at a store with a red tile floor bought some warm green Jello There's a woman in rust collecting change for a bus to get her home She's a bit uneasy but don't mind the feeling of being alone I'm tired and aimlessly roam There's nowhere I'm looking to go I just follow the lines of the road I follow the lines of the road