On the road to Sodom
Well the road to Sodom was jammed with traffic, the cars stood in line.
The city rose from another night's ruin,
its peace clandestine.
Rosie had her hair up in a stylish bun,
Rodney his was slicked back.
And they sat there drunk, drained and funereal,
both dressed in black.
When Rodney first saw her, she was sitting at a table in a corner of Al's bar.
There was some guy dropping names to her, like there was no tomorrow though he didn't get far.
Later he took Rosie to a place down on Melrose where a hundred James Deans
Sat drinking double espressos with the wannabe artists OD-ing on caffeine.
She says "you're so curious"
But he's not sure what that means
'Cause he's just lives his life away
in some nineteen fifties' dream.
Rosie watches the stage as the lights go down, praying for release.
There's a woman dressed up like lady liberty singing about Bobby McGee.
Then Rodney gets up and starts to recite his own archaic verse
'Til someone cuts him short with a cigarette butt, though it could have been worse.
And anything they say to him just passes like the wind
'Cause he don't give a damn about such stories.
His mother's cries, his father's warnings about the age when life begins,
He's just living out his nineteen fifties glories.
Rodney says something about the New York scene, she rests her head back.
He's got the mood, the style, even the accent, but he's missed all the facts.
"Besides there's no use following moons and stars" she says, "they just get away."
But he says, "Rosie I'm serious, we could leave here today."
And Rosie keeps both her eyes and month closed
as he takes her through these scenes
'cause she knows all her lines by heart
in his nineteen fifties dreams.
The freeway sign says left lane closed but he really don't care.
He knows that she's drifting, he knows he's really alone, he can breathe the dead air.
"And someday things will be different," he says, but she's not listening
Lost in the mirror to her hair, rouge, and lipstick, all glistening.
'Cause Rosie, she knows Rodney like the taste of nicotine
or the endings to his each and every story.
So she takes all that he says to her with just a grain for what it means
'cause he living off those nineteen fifties glories.
Now the road to Sodom was jammed with traffic, the rest he forgets.
He just sitting beside there her, watching her lips as she puffed that cigarette.
Rosie moves forward, still thinking about nothing but the words to this tune.
Turns the radio up louder, then eases back slowly as the cars begin to move