The Omen Road

I rode my bike down Omen Road, Knew they'd be after me, I'd reap what I sowed. Crossed into Jersey, saw a dead bird ahead— I prefer voices, I get symbols instead In a pullout was a convertible with a man inside He drew his finger across his nose, didn't approve this ride By Greenwood Lake I smelled perfume as I climbed up the slope I was tensing up, I was reaching the end of my rope Heard two sarcastic guys in a parking lot They could be talking about me, I hoped they were not Should I keep on my course to Port Jervis Hotel? Should I cut my trip short, heed the tolling bell? (chorus) For whom does the bell toll? Could it be me? Should I surrender my rights in the land of the free? It’s a grim kind of fate, riding this road, Where even roadkill is a phrase in a code. I cut through Warwick, a town old and serene What I would encounter, who could have foreseen? Passed a dead skunk on the road, who put it there? Was I being paranoid, my accusation unfair? Kept on a few miles, another dead skunk I pinched myself, could I be drunk? Reached a platform, but no train in the station, Asked a bitter woman where I could find accomodation. She sent me south, just a mile or two, But the motel was nowhere, her directions untrue. I asked a local man to search his cell phone He found an old B and B that was not well known The owners said I could stay, though it wasn't summer yet This was an unexpected rescue, I felt in their debt Next morning on the road, I ran into a dead fox Does it pay to be clever, to think out of the box? There’s a law of revenge, a law of crime, Their justice isn’t yours, nor is it mine. They were crusaders, but afraid of exposure I knew too much, there could never be closure. Got to the Hudson, got on the train No way to tell this story, all would think it insane How can I go against sanity's flow? When the mundane is an omen, what can I show? If it can be explained away, it stays unknown And the startled realization stays alone.