TripTiks

Driving in we cross the golden gate
Heading forward and then back again

Here’s the spirit of the old cross streets
Won’t be staying but I’m sure we’ll be, around around around

We knew everything and were so sure of
Pockets full of triptiks, gas on empty
Bargaining our way across the country
Pockets full of triptiks, gas on empty

Though the engine it gave out half way
Drive by night to make it back again