The tree trunks look like open gates
For the wild, the state of day
But by night they turn to the bars
On the prison windows of our roads
All the dark secrets are inside them
And they're looming in front of you
Why don't you stay in your little village?
Cause we're no more wild and you've got so much work to do
So yeah, we can stop at the state park with our bellies full
And not go too far from the little car
But if we were gonna do that, why don't we just drive out to wal-mart
And hang out in the parking lot?
It's almost dawn
And the streetlights look like moons