I’m going to take that
road trip that I’ve dreamt of for so long,
search for myself and
who knows what else might come along.
I’ll buy a bashed up
Chevrolet, perhaps a vintage Oldsmobile
she’ll share the trip
and keep me dry; I’ll call her “Sweet Lucille”.
There’ll be cool music
on the radio, from lots of FM jocks
I’ll sing out loud,
windows down, breeze blowing through my locks
You see I’ve also
grown long hair, a nose ring and some tats
and one of those
little goatee beards, perhaps a mite ersatz
First stop will be the
desert, massive skies and cowboy rocks
meet the girl from
Vanishing Point, wearing nothing but her socks
I’ll find some
hippies, drop some tabs, pick fights in remote bars
drink thin beer, write
great words and shout out to the stars
My clothes will smell
but what the hell, no one will give a fuck
out on the Mesa,
solitude, just me and my beloved truck
I’ll find what I think
I’m looking for, nature’s hostile terrain
but if I miss the
landmarks, I can always come again
You see it’s all about
discovery, true reality, a test
Nature and the
elements, a search to find what’s best
I know I’ll return a
better man, at peace, calm, full of Zen
Perhaps I’ll save up, chuck
my job and do it again
But can I offer
warnings, to others yearning for the road
to find themselves a
Shangri-la, become no fixed abode
Don’t listen to your
inner-self where common sense is sparse
Be like me, a
pipe-dreamer, who stayed sat here on his arse
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