old sneakers hanging, take four

the sun has broken
and the roads are clear
and I am driving
away from here
take a turn
at Tenth and Main
don't matter which 
they're both the same

old sneakers hanging
from a telephone wire
dead flat bed truck
with a low rear tire
my hometown resides
in sheets of gray
it's from here
I'm running away

          don't try to tell me
          I won't listen
          don't try to teach me
          I won't learn
          look for me
          in the rear view mirror
          and know i will never return
          know I will never return

when I met you
I was sure
that this was something
less than pure
more than I 
had in store
exactly what
I was hoping for

I like the rhythm
of your hips
the grasping of
your fingertips
your silhouetted
curve and sway
almost enough
to choose to stay

          don't try to tell me
          I won't listen
          don't try to teach me
          I won't learn
          look for me
          in the rear view mirror
          and know i will never return
          know I will never return

small towns have
long memories
and it's a long, long trail
in front of me
but I will not
be taken by
the rhapsody
of your velvet lies

old sneakers hanging
from a telephone wire
this boy has left
the Sunday choir
I'll think of you
wherever I roam
the resting place
I know as home

          don't try to tell me
          I won't listen
          don't try to teach me
          I won't learn
          look for me
          in the rear view mirror
          and know i will never return
          know I will never return