Out in the driveway this house doesn't have
I wash the car that I don't own
I keep myself busy
You talk on the phone
And lose track of time
I get lost in the foam

I watch the water run through the cracks
Down to the curb
Past the painted address that's fading undisturbed
Down to the end of the street
Where neighbors I don't have and I meet
Into the sewer beneath the block that doesn't exist

Now I'm in the cat box panning for gold
At least in cat years I'm four years old
The dream I had last night I'll have again
Not knowing what it means to dream of a life
I'd never want to begin