dazing dreaming genie
straying streaming freely
close to coasts
off the posts
of polar poles
scuffing my bootprints
until rubber burns cold

i'll sell my home
if i had nowhere to go
get up and go
but there's always somewhere to go

where my tracks will find me
drawn out on a sleeve
or a newsprint tassle
tackle agony
antagonized with depression and
subtle thoughts the recur
when they should just be buried
while no one's there

i'll sell my home
if i had nowhere to go
get up and go
get up and go

keeping tabs on a young boy
while they're spelling their name
JFK once told of
love after it was slain
kerouac is hacking the wagon while
christopher's on the train
oh, and I'll be long behind them
even if i stay