There's a diner out on Route 322 in western Pennsylvania.
I spent my life there one afternoon.
I can't get that stretch of road out of my head.
I hear it when I'm taking a shower, reading the paper.
I'd look up and see it across the valley.
They tore down the Starlighter, down at the end of the road,
and built a big Day's Inn that blocks the view.
I know that road's still there.
I can feel it wherever I go, whatever I'm doing,
and it knows that I'm still here.
And it's waiting.
We are abandoned.
Liars own the words.
All the pictures in all the museums in the world are just a shell and pea game
played by the clever people to bilk the rubes.
Reality is defined by the needs of the media.
History is rewritten faster than it can happen.
Culture is a weapon that's used against us.
Culture is a swampland of superstition, ignorance and abuse.
Geography is a language they can't screw up.
The land and what we add to it cannot lie.
It's also like a mirror.
Reflected, we see ourselves or we choose to turn away.
Watch it now.
Down by the river, I shot my baby.
By the rivers of Babylon,
I wept when I remembered you, oh Zion.
Take me to the river.
Wash me in the water.
Watch me now.
In the hard-edged town,
the form that the light takes
is like a trickle down.
Some things it can filter out.
Softens the faces of the angry men
who still walk around
in the harvest night of a suitcase town.
I fear the pace of change.
I fear the face of change.
Something in the air tastes of strange enough.
Everybody must go.
Everybody must swear an oath to leave.
I heard it on the radio.
That's how I know.
We pulled off the highway.
Drove down Main Street
Found a one-pump
where we gassed and asked where the food was,
like we knew we'd been expected all along.
Lawyer had an office on the 2nd floor.
Reached it from the outside, up the stairs,
side of the wall.
Just past there I looked down the street.
and the town disappeared into high plains.
I knew that somewhere out there's
a valley is filled with frozen clouds
Dust hangs in the air like it is perfume
and no one is waiting.
Does someone there know me?
I meant to write down the name of the town.
I don't remember the highway we took to get to it,
or where we went after. I do remember
the frozen quality of the hours we stayed there.
I remember the waitress and what Tom had to eat.
I remember the faces of the other customers
like they was my own family.
I remember that just over the horizon there was a valley
filled with frozen clouds
where dust hangs in the air like perfume.
Maybe it's in the moonlight.
Maybe it's in the headlights.
The driver of the car's still your Man in the Moon.
The guy at his side was your brother Bill.
They was howling at the world from the top of the hill.
Tonight, I can them in your eyes
like I saw it in a dream.
Baby, you better come inside.
The driver of the car's still the Man in the Moon.
The guy at his side is your brother Bill.
They was howling at the world in a fly's eye.
In the halo of the evening,
where the kitchen meets the nighttime.
At the screen, who is it standing there?
Hey baby, you're letting all the bugs in.