On the Highway September 3, 2009
Driving on the highway,
Loosening my collar,
Feeling the breeze in my convertible
Dancing with my hair.
I see mountains far and wide,
Close enough for their immensity,
Too distant, though, to define trees.
I know they're there, though,
Because God made them that way.
The hills roll like my wife's curves,
So gentle, so smooth,
And yet they are infinitely longer.
Work has me delirious
As life in the boardroom
Scorches at my soul,
Leaves me in a tizzy,
And I forget to ponder a possible future
Fueled by candlelight and Don Perignon.
As the glass behemoths die behind my retreat,
As it appears that I'm climbing a ladder
Of faded asphalt, once as black as night,
The time approaches when I shall rise
From my metallic chariot.
I will be home, with my wife,
Where the real curves cry my name,
Where delicacy and love never cease,
And where the evil of money and the man falter.
Loosening my collar,
Feeling the breeze in my convertible
Dancing with my hair.
I see mountains far and wide,
Close enough for their immensity,
Too distant, though, to define trees.
I know they're there, though,
Because God made them that way.
The hills roll like my wife's curves,
So gentle, so smooth,
And yet they are infinitely longer.
Work has me delirious
As life in the boardroom
Scorches at my soul,
Leaves me in a tizzy,
And I forget to ponder a possible future
Fueled by candlelight and Don Perignon.
As the glass behemoths die behind my retreat,
As it appears that I'm climbing a ladder
Of faded asphalt, once as black as night,
The time approaches when I shall rise
From my metallic chariot.
I will be home, with my wife,
Where the real curves cry my name,
Where delicacy and love never cease,
And where the evil of money and the man falter.
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