Reading and rotting 
The door is open 
Walking the road with no sidewalk 
Any place that you’re not free to leave
Becomes a prison 

Beer cans and buried cable 
Smashed plastic liquor bottles 
Monkey meat 
For all the cut hunters 

Heroes don’t need billboards 
Or special hats 
Statues of molded horses 
Broken phones and sneaky deals
Love is the black paint