We cut out the small talk
On the fourth of july
I am tripping through the junkyard
Where I'm from
So there goes the only friend
Try not to frown
Waving good-bye
His eyes are small and shy on my back
His hand flapping behind him
I can see him through the cracks
I have in iowa
My path through iowa would be
Go right to the way things are
Scanning over the piles
Only the people who live here
So I invite myself in
He says his name is jason
We all go looking for paradise
His name is jason
And he'll be seven
When I walk by
He lives in the last trailer on the right
But jason smiled at me
I told him I locked myself out of my car
He don't ask me
He lives in the last trailer on the right
Then we go back home
He met my eye
Through a hole in the fence
He showed me his squirrel skull
The thin cats raise their skin in defense
All the adults in this town
Here alone
And he'll be seven
Know the name of this place
Or why I came
I know he's watching me
Hard to trace
