i am now that old man on the bus…lone traveler…seeing america ‘gain…gray hair greased back…mumbling what might’ve been…to myself…myself…
roads taken…choices…t’was choices…a search for what…for what…gold…riches…comfort…no…never did i seek…never…
mine was to run…not to be kept…placed on a shelf…left there with bankers and insurance salesmen…i ran…from america i ran…watching from a far…this race of fools…fools…seeking solace in shopping mall madness…the celebration of a parking space…it doesn’t take much…
no…these journeys in this land…were for love…the constant search for love…a lifetime spent chasing voices…whiskey voices down highways at midnight as years gone by…they’ve gone by…
and i’ve had love…tasted this wine that others have only dreamed of… ginger and emerald…ginger and emerald…never ‘fore has the cup been so sweet…am i dreaming…dreaming…
i am now that old man on the bus…lone traveler…seeing america ‘gain…
