She cooks him ham and hotcakes at 5:30 in the morn

She does the dishes and irons his uniforms

And she thinks she might have loved him once but that was long ago

And the rain pours down like a holy waterfall over the Gulf of Mexico

The boardwalk's deserted and the beach is all closed down

And the middle school punkrockers ride their skateboards through the town

And she looks back and she daydreams about things and people she's never seen

Just to keep from being blue

And she gets home about a quarter to four

And drives her brother to the liquor store on ocean avenue

And I'm parked on the state line on this cold November day

And pretty soon I'll be a drivin fool somewhere down this lost highway

Then I hear a voice from my soul's core

Sayin "freedom's just a metaphor, you got nowhere to go"

And the rain pours down like a holy waterfall over the Gulf of Mexico