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