Movin' On

In the quiet of an autumn afternoon, park bench dreaming, wintry days in bloom

And I know I should be moving on, but I really hate to go

This is the closest thing to a home that I've ever known, but it feels like snow

Miles and days go by and it's a cold December dawn

Now I'm outside Kansas City breathing clouds and rubbing palms

My money's gone, and my clothes congealed; my thumb can't seem to get me wheels

I'm hungry, I'm cold and I'm lonely, then she comes along

And with three words we're gone, "Need a ride?"; just movin' on

I say, "I'm nowhere bound"; she's going for L.A.

I guess picking up a rider was another way to stake her claim