Across the freeway flow   Against the western row   On ploding shoes i go   To steal you out of tow   On the phone i swear   And so i will do so      Up the access stair   To cash my paycheck there   And down again to fare   The dirty city glare   Through the motor squall   To the south i bear      Past the chola wall   Swift and not to stall      Beyond the burning tires   Among the towering spires   I say that i will go   And so i will do so   Down the barren lanes   Heed the boarded panes      To the hard window   There to sign below   Alone there i will go   And put the money down   To take you back to town   On the phone i swear   Not to tell your dad