There\'s a place near the Folsom Prison
Where my innocence lies
In Roseville and Citrus Heights
I felt calm serenity for once in my life
Alone as I was, the streets were my friends
And the voices in my head as well
Jumping on a pogo stick
Or riding a borrowed bike
The streets gave me peace
The voices gave me company
Perhaps I am nostalgia stricken
Perhaps half the memories are false
But they are safe refuge in my mind
They are memories I shall keep
Neither hope nor pessimism can take that away
I hope to return yet
I can never return
Fear strikes me
I would return to my fantasy crumbling
Nevertheless it is a worthwhile thought
Apocalypse strikes me now
As time passes my life does too
When my eyes finally close
I hope to dream of these places one last time