Another time, there is no girl
In her beautiful truck
And there’s no me
Hitchhiking lonely beside the road
But there is a Kaleidoscope
Hung from a tree like a dead camel
Draped seductively in red bed sheets
But the twist is
When you look into the Kalediscope
You see her again
But now she’s got a purple flower in her hair
And is playing Jazz on a Harp.
And she sees you.