From A Few Streets Over

From a few streets over

Before the sun goes down

You can hear it coming closer

To this dislocated shoulder

of an old and crooked town

That's when the ice cream van rolls around

But in the land of plenty

The money here is tight

The children here are many

(and if you do have any)

He will park his van outside

There waits the ice cream man with the cold dark eyes

For it's not a "Rockwell" summer

or a world of "Dick and Jane"

And how it makes you shudder

Like you used to hide from thunder

When you hear him coming down the lane

And you condemn the ice cream man to the world of flame

A sickly, sweet wind is blowing

Across the fields of hell

A licorice night's unfolding

Near a grave sight a corroded

old and burnt out carousel

Here lies the ice cream man, the devil treats him well