3:10 Smokey Thursday

3:10 Smokey Thursday
A cop directing traffic
Just collapsed and later died
Very dissatisfied
He didn't know it was the air
He didn't care

3:10 Smokey Thursday
The people on the freeways
Left their castles built on wheels
To find the fields
They were all gone
The sky, too, was out of view

(And) All the beautiful children were crying
They were dying to be

3:10 Smokey Thursday
With the governor on the phone
The factory exec
Finally thought about his neck
Declared he'd turn the factory off
With a cigar and a cough

3:10 Smokey Thursday
The children quit their playing
And sat down upon the curb
Without a word
Even the sun had turned to gray They could not play