Meadow Street

Krystal's walking past the front yard
For the 12th time tonight
Waves at every car that passes
Till a pickup flashes its lights
An old man stretches across the cab
Flings the passenger door open wide
He is one secluded spot from paradise
Krystal's getting paid for the ride
Down Meadow Street

White boys rev expensive engines
Fill our ditches up with trash
An empty liquor bottle, hurled at open throttle
Strikes the chain link with a crash
Where a woman squints in the morning sun, Searching bushes for her stash
She finds her bag, appears to praise God back
But is shielding her final match
On Meadow Street

At half-past noon in the conference room
My buddy's telling me
About his perfect spouse and their perfect house
On his sterile little street
But I built my home where people mow their landlord's property
Until the hammers ping and the buzz saws sing
And developers grow green
Off Meadow Street