I am afraid of bridges, sometimes I have to turn around
When I'm driving towards one and my heart begins to pound
Last night at the bridge to Johnsburg I swerved down a dead end street
I sat there shaking in an empty lot full of broken glass and weeds
Then past me in the darkness ran four wild dogs
Leaping over abandoned tires high into the air
In the air, in the air, someday I will live in the air
Once I loved a girl named Joan whose skin smelled just like falling snow
One day she drove us off the road into a dead field of corn
She laughed and hit the gas as we bounced across the rows
Bbut I held onto the dashboard with my eyes tightly closed
Those wild dogs brought back that smell of falling snow
And the girl who lives in Johnsburg across a bridge I can not cross