The last verse is not the song

Jack sits in the wheelchair in the grass a rebel nerd, he thinks of the time when he cycled up Teton Pass by a stream through walls of pine Obsessed, this viewpoint vampire his memory full of hill and vale A landscape loon, an odd desire But now his body is his jail The harried nurse to her surprise Distracted from a patient's cries sees a vision in Jack's fogged eyes lakes and forests and crimson skies [chorus] In each scene, views so grand At six thousand feet, he biked along Never quite reached the Promised Land But the last verse is not the song Kate sits in the same old age home A relic from a bygone show Her friends long dead, she's now alone Her melody no longer on the radio She was warm and could be all heart Now a meteor in afterburn She knows that bodies fall apart Resigned or not, the wheel must turn. [outro] Jack and Kate were luckier than some They were free, knew right from wrong They lived a long life, and had their fun The last verse is not the song.