High in the cascade mountains,
On a green rainy windy ridge,
Waiting uptight at the toll gate,
Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge,
In the glittering Hollywood midnight,
Full of nowhere millionaires.
What would I have done without my lady there?
Cold shifty eyes and french fries,
Stuck in a tourist trap,
Waiting alone at the gas pump
In a town that ain't on the map.
In the space race faces of Houston
Which looked out of work and scared,
What would I have done without my lady there?
We stood at the window overlooking the
city of nightmares and cried,
And wondered how anyone desperate for money
could live such a life.
The on-ramps and off-ramps and staggering
street tramps and legions of the damned,
Crying sister and brother, hang onto each other,
the computers are jammed.
Business in New York City,
High in a cold hotel,
Wondering if there's a heaven,
We've already been sent to Hell.
It might be alright to live there,
But visiting is just nowhere.
What would I have done without my lady there?