“Whither goest thou, America, in thy shiny car in the night?”

“Lonely as America, a throatpierced sound in the night.”

“We fumed and screamed in our mountain nook, mad drunken Americans in the mighty land. We were on the roof of America and all we could do was yell, I guess--across the night...”

“America is a lonely crock of shit...”

“And so we picked up our bags, he the trunk with his one good arm and I the rest, and staggered to the cable-car stop; in a moment rolled down the hill with our legs dangling to the sidewalk from the jiggling shelf, two broken-down heroes of the Western night.”

“All that hitchhikinAll that railroadinAll that comin backto America”

“We were on the roof of America and all we could do was yell”