Cherokee Louise is hiding in this tunnel. In the Broadway bridge. We're crawling on our knees. We've got flashlights and batteries. We've got cold cuts from the fridge. Last year about this time. We used to climb up in the branches. Just to sway there in some breeze. Now the cops on the street. They want Cherokee Louise. People like to talk. Tongues are waggin' over fences. Waggin' over phones. All their doors are locked. God she can't even come to our house. But I know where she'll go. To the place where you can stand. And press your hands like it was bubblebath. In dust piled high as me. Down under the street. My friend. Poor Cherokee Louise. Ever since we turned 13. It's like a minefield. Walking to the door. Going out you get the 3rd degree. And comin' in you get the 3rd world war. Tuesday after school. We put our pennies on the rails. And when the train went by. We were jumpin' round like fools. Goin' "Look no heads or tails". Goin' "Look my lucky prize". She runs home to her foster dad. He opens up a zipper. And he yanks her to her knees. Oh please be here-please. My friend. Poor Cherokee Louise. Cherokee Louise is hiding in this tunnel. In the Broadway bridge. We're crawling on our knees. We've got Archie and Silver Screen. I know where she is. The place where you can stand. And press your hand like it was bubblebath. In dust piled high as me. Down under the street. My friend. Poor Cherokee Louise. Oh Cherokee Louise