Beth was walking slowly with her night lamp

It shone brightly even though the light was not yet lost

Her friend Pearl was sitting in front her van

Smoking quietly as Jazzy Zee picked out a tune

On her tired torn and bleached guitar

In the distance Cyprus Falls was falling into darkness

As it always did after hot clear desert days

Her home was the nearest to the washrooms

Which was to her advantage as she could shower uninterrupted

Beth was a widow of seventeen years

It seemed that she had been a widow for much longer

She remembered Jack but she had forgotten Jack

Many thousands of miles on the road had dulled her memory

In a week her sister Grace would visit Canning and would try

To persuade Beth to abandon the road and settle down

But her journey would be in vain as Beth knew that she would

Never unless feeble change her lifestyle as she knew of no destination