Good Life

The Road

I feel the warm air whipping past my face,

The melody of a country song dancing from the radio and across my mind,

The sun shines through the window of an F-150 rolling down the highway,

Going 80 or more.





I can see the black-as-night clouds I’m racing in the rearview mirror from behind a pair of Aviators,

But the harsh, hot wind brings me back,

Back to the song blasting out of the speakers,

Back to the road.





A couple chicks in a little red convertible pull up next to me,

Pop music bouncing the car rather than the uneven road,

They pay me no mind,

Bent on getting to where they’re going fast,

But I just laugh,

Let ‘em race towards getting old.





I can see the glowing yellow sun standing in a Baby-Blue-Like-The-Colorado-Sky heaven from behind a pair of Aviators,

And my mind wonders,

But the kids waving from of a school bus brings me back,

Back to the road.





The clouds catch me at the Kentucky state line,

Sending a torrents of sorrow my way,

I watch the rain roll down my sun kissed arm

And I suppose I should roll the windows up.





The task is done and the radio hums sadly,

And I miss the wind rushing by,

I can see the model-thin streaks of lighting soaring among the clouds from the inside of a pair of green eyes,

But the Aviators on the dash and the map next to me

Bring me back to the miles I have to go,

Back to the road.





The highway’s straight-as-a-bullet path leaves the rain behind,

The sun shining on my face and the Aviators across the bridge of my nose,

The wind howling by,

I see flashing sapphire and ruby lights and we all slow down,

There’s a semi lying on its side like wounded bear,

Police cars all around.





I watch in is the mirror after I’ve past it by,

I tear my eyes ahead and focus on what’s in front of me,

Back to the road,

Because I know I’m a long way from home.





Live is like a highway,

It looks straight-as-an-arrow,

But there are accidents,

There are distractions,

There is happy,

There is sad,

There are storms,

But there is always the road under our wheels,

Showing us the way home.

But there is always the road under our wheels,

Showing us the way home.

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