Where did we go
wrong turn at Albuquerque
is just close enough to Santa Fe
to be far enough from home
run under the bleachers
during the time I was in love
with no one but him and him and him
and there he goes again
waving out the window
covered with fog
inside my head
all these random, swirling
snows in winter that cover the road
to nowhere and beyond
unbelievable is what you’ve become
a burden that I’m willing to unload
at the station down by the tracks
where I took that first wrong turn
at Albuquerque.