Halfway Home

Halfway Home

On the road to nowhere in particular,

The seasons change in threes.

Searching for somewhere,

Anywhere, please, I ask,

The gas attendant says,

"Stay in Lane Three."

But when I ask him where I'm at

In relation to where I want to be,

He says, "You're already
Half way home, my friend."

I guess I'll drive on, scott-free.

Driving on down
 In perpetual motion,

Whistling a little tune.

Bumps and stops
All along the way,

They merely impede
 What I want to see.

And what do I say
When I get there,

To that little piece of paradise?

Well, I bought a map
 At the station, titled,

"The Road to Nowhere Indeed."

So I drive on, missing exits,

Home could be off any one.

The note inside the map said,

"Home is in the state of Mind."

And I travel on, philosophizing,

Pondering what could it mean?

Lane Three never ends

And the light's always green.

And if I arrive at the homestead,

What then would come of me?

And then it occurred
To me what it is,

That it's the thrill of
The chase, not the end.

Could it be that this vagabond

Has it figured out over
 A man in his castle?

Accelerating beneath God's blue skies,

Hurling forward life's golden lasso.

Nature really ain't so bad,

How it goes in waves of three.

I'll never leave the road,

That way to preponderance.

I'm halfway home in Lane Three.