Across the street the river runs.
Down in the gutter life is slipping away.
Let me still exist in another place,
Running down under cover
Of a helicopter blade.
Across the street the river runs.
Down in the gutter life is slipping away.
Let me still exist in another place,
Running down under cover
Of a helicopter blade.
No never will I roam,
for I know my place is home.
Where the ocean meets the sky,
I'll be sailing.
Love may still alive,
somewhere someday,
where they're downing only deer
a hundred steel towns away.
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