I am afraid of bridges, sometimes I have to turn around
When I'm driving towards one and my heart begins to pound
Last night at the bridge to Johnsburg I swerved down a dead end street
I sat there shaking in an empty lot full of broken gla** and weeds
Then past me in the darkness ran four wild dogs
Leaping over abandoned tires high into the air
In the air, in the air, someday I will live in the air
Once I loved a girl named Joan whose skin smelled just like falling snow
One day she drove us off the road into a dead field of corn
She laughed and hit the gas as we bounced across the rows
Bbut I held onto the dashboard with my eyes tightly closed
Those wild dogs brought back that smell of falling snow
And the girl who lives in Johnsburg across a bridge I can not cross