On the open road; mind is full of flowers and thorns
We come and go; and can go any day
Uncertainty sets the day of departure
Like the day of entry, written from up
The paper notes squared up
In the web page they come and go
Through the slit-opening
Of the mysterious metallic remotely controlled
Box talking through money to many;
Small problems are pondered
And the big ones are wondered
And the thundering voices are heard
In the corridors of gossip, hollow
Without the promise of rain:
On the open road; mind is full of flowers and thorns.
