Walking down the streets
Minding my own business
Thoughts are running wild
No way close to Christmas
Walking but nowhere to go
On the sidewalk, follow lines
Man, this is such a dirty town
Feeling down, I know the signs
Where's that turn, I can not see
The one that leads to the "A" three
They say it's there, I will agree
Untill that time, I won't be free
Around the first or second block
Still minding my own business
The same houses, all along
Hey, it's a kind of fitness
There's a hole in my shoe
It get's bigger all the time
For every road I walk
It's stupid, that don't rhyme
Where's the turn, I can not see
The one that leads to the "A" three
They say it's there, I will agree
But 'till that time, I won't be free
Hours later, still on the search
Last page on the map, turning six
Houses getting fewer, but bigger
A third floor, perfect fix
Walkin's getting harder
The left shoe has a cleft
And the tempo is much slower
Almost barefoot, no soles left
Where's the turn, I can not see
The one that leads to the "A" three
They say it's there, I will agree
Untill that time, I won't be free
My tonque is hanging out a foot
Can barely walk another step
Sweat runs and forms a flood
This bad, soaking wet, yep
Running out on a solution
I even got a hole in my soul
By far, jumping to a conclusion
My tears in sorrow roll
There is the turn, I could not see
The one that leads to the "A" three
I see it's there, wont disagree
I go there and be free
In the end