22 Traffic lights

22 traffic lights

And 13 miles of highway

Us 1 south, in St Augustine

There's nothing more I can say

Well, It's tortured me so

This forsaken stretch of road

As though I'm walking over coals

This old city is a prison

Where no one ever listens

And these miles, all I've been is in

So many cars speed by

As the running sands of time,

And. Here I am, stuck up on this line

The blisters sprout up on my feet

To increase the pain of my defeat

And constantly erase my sole's relief

22 traffic lights

Are all I ever see

And I suffer in my silence

For it's all I'll ever be

well, The Thousandth time I strolled

Down this damned old stretch of road

I knew I had no where else to go

And when the holes in my shoes

Well, they Once again grew

I knew there was nothing left to do

This city always makes me feel 

Like a ragged hamster on a wheel

Running circles for another pellet meal

Sometimes I wish I could fly

In a brand new caddy ride, and

Leave those tired traffic lights behind

22 traffic lights

And as many pairs of shoes

I'd sure love to see some new sights,

but I'll be walking till I'm through

22 traffic lights

And 13 miles of highway

Us 1 south, in St Augustine

There's nothing more I can say