I was thinkin’ about Colorado,
I was thinkin’ about Maine,
I was sitting in a Greyhound,
Trying to remember my name.

I must’ve been crazy
To do what I done-
It must’ve been a thrill,
It must’ve been fun.
To sit here in wonder,
To sit here in shame,
To try and forget you
Is like trying to forget my own name.

I was thinkin’ about Oklahoma,
I was thinkin’ about the law-
How one day you’re tall and
The next day you’re small and
How we never really knew each other,
After all.
I was thinkin’ about
Paint-by-number sunsets,
(Where Highway 9 meets 12th, looking west);
I was thinkin’ about saving people
And abandoning the rest,
About who I would choose,
And what I could afford to lose.

I was thinkin’ about sugar,
I was thinkin’ about spice,
I was considering how it ended:
Bitter… but nice.
I’d like to get to know this city,
Forget what I came to do,
And forget my name in a Greyhound
A time or two.
But a rose is a rose
By any other name,
So there’s no use pretending,
There’s no use shifting the blame.
I’m thinkin’ about a few more years
In Colorado or Maine-
Whether in crumbling mountains,
Or in dry, dusty plains…
Add on a few nameless nights
In some abandoned country bars,
Then it’s only six more steps
Straight upstairs to the stars.