With the lights dim, the record begins,
country singer.
Recline and tracing a line
with your finger,
across a map
of North America.
You lay the east to waste and arrive
in California.
Under the street lights, the dark's out of sight,
there's no need to look back.
But at the train tracks, you look out into the black,
and you wonder,
about endless time
and endless space.
But you're good to go, so put on a show
all you have to do
is stand straight, and carry your weight
in the cold light
of a crowded room,
trying to catch someone's eye.
Well, I've heard that the heart opens wide
in California.
Well, I've heard there's no rest til you get
to California.
where the one's with hope
go to be whole.
Wonder how you spend your last breath
in California.