"Going down a dirty inner city side road, I plotted. Madness passed me by, she smiled Hi. I nodded. Looked up as the sky began to cry; she shot it. Met a girl from Dearborn early six o'clock this morn: a cold fact. Asked about her bag. "Suburbia's such a drag, won't go back, 'cause Papa don't allow no new ideas here, and now he sees the news, but the picture's not too clear.""