I sit in the modest Mexican restaurant
I wonder how I got hooked up
To this chicken quesadilla, a Mexican special
I cringe to the bite of Jalapenos
They burn my mouth, but I love it all the same.

From the louvers of the Venetian blinds,
I peek on the road outside.
The traffic light blinks;
Red, amber green, so goes the day
A control of the animals behind the wheel.

They pass in all sizes and shape
In all colors and age
Still they abide by the same rules
Stop, go and turn;
Why then, can't life be that simple?

I cry from deep within
I weep for the soul I am selling
For a life of wishful dreams.
No one stands in my way but me
I cuss myself, I am a pussy, am I?

Life is not cars, it is drivers
A parked car gathers dust and leaves
Finally it seizes, it just won’t ever run
The driver loses, he moans day and night
For the good times and places he used to drive.

I cry from deep inside
Oh Lord I hate crying
How I wish for a time I won’t cry no more
A time for my eternal dreams to tread
For them to walk the road I lust.