she rides on empty streetsnalways takes cottage grovenbecause she needs the taste of where they used to eatnshe feels these days are long agonnthis taxi smells like gasolinenand I've seen all there is to seenin this townnevery road goes somewhere but I'm still herennshe wants her son to have a better viewnhis guitar is his pillow at nightnyou know he plays the parts until he gets it rightnshe hopes the harmony makes him movennso he's not stuck here toonnthis taxi smells like gasolinenand I've seen all there is to seenin this townnevery road goes somewhere but I'm still herennand there must've been a two-way streetnI might have turned at differentlynthese lights never change when you're in the wrong lanenand if you turn turn into menI'll never forgive this little city driving me mundanennthis taxi smells like gasolinenand I've seen all there is to seenin this townnevery road goes somewhere but I'm still herenn