Billy walks down the middle
Of this crowded dead end street
Cars block alleys and sidewalks
It's a hard rain coming down in sheets
Weeds infiltrate lawns
Into crevices of driveways they creep
Garages are filled with useless junk
That houses have no room to keep
The doors and windows are open
To give the illusion of space
People sit all day on front porch steps
Everyone's got time in this place
Time to fill, like their garages,
With stuff that diminishes capacity
Making their lives more cramped -
Additions of dubious quality
Billy feels the weight of idleness
Bearing down like an unsteady load
He wishes he could loosen the burden
And leave it lying in the road
But wishes are expensive
He can’t afford the luxury of fantasy
There's no work for someone like him
That’s just a fact, his reality
Filling time, that’s day-to-day life
No point in dreaming of the future
Besides what would the dream look like
But the confined life he sees here
So when the street ends he’ll face it
The only escape from this hemmed in slum
They say it only hurts for a moment
Before reaching ultimate freedom
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