I leave the house as soon as it gets light outside Like a prisoner breaking out of jail And I steal down to business 15-501 Like I had a bounty hunter on my tail And somebody stops to pick me up But he drops me off just down the block And along the highway where the empty spirits breathe Wild sage growing in the weeds Walked down the soft shoulder and I count my steps Headed vaguely eastward, sun in my eyes And I lose my footing and I skin my hands breaking my fall And I laugh to myself and look up at the skies And then I think I hear angels in my ears Like marbles being thrown against a mirror And along the highway where unlucky stray dogs bleed Wild sage growing in the weeds And some days I don't miss my family And some days I do Some days I think I'd feel better if I tried harder Most days I know it's not true I lay down right where I felt cold grass in my face And I hear the traffic like the rhythm of the tides And I stare at the scrape on the heel of my hand 'Til it doesn't sting so much and until the blood's dried And when somebody asks if I'm okay I don't know what to say And along the highway, from cast-off innumerable seeds Wild sage growing in the weeds