Monday, August 17, 2015

"The Road"

A good riding buddy, Jerry, said this song reminded him of me. Said I was either planning a long ride, on a long ride or just returned from a long ride. Beautiful Bride opines I must have been a truck driver in another life. Truth be told, I do love the fresh air of an open road. Never gotten tired or bored of seeing new places, meeting new people, breathing the new air out there.

Maybe a theme song for persistent riders.

                     
"The Road" by Frank Turner

To the east, to the east, the road beneath my feet.
To the west, to the west, I haven’t got there yet.
To the north, to the north, never to be caught.
To the south, to the south, my time is running out.

Ever since my childhood I've been scared, I've been afraid,
of being trapped by circumstance, of staying in one place,
and so I always keep a small bag full of clothes carefully stored,
somewhere secret, somewhere safe, somewhere close to the door.
Well I’ve travelled many countries, washed my feet in many seas,
I've drunk with grifters in Vienna and with punks in old DC,
and I've driven across deserts,
driven by the irony that only being shackled to the road could ever I be free.

To the east, to the east, the road beneath my feet.
To the west, to the west, I haven’t got there yet.
To the north, to the north, never to be caught.
To the south, to the south, my time is running out.

I've felt old before my time
but now I keep the age away by burning up the miles and by filling up my days.
And the nights, a thousand nights I've played, a thousand more to go,
before I take a breath, and steel myself for the next one thousand shows.

To the east, to the east, the road beneath my feet.
To the west, to the west, I haven’t got there yet.
To the north, to the north, never to be caught.
To the south, to the south, my time is running out.

So saddle up your horses and keep your powder dry,
because the truth is you won't be here long, soon you're going to die.
To the heart, to the heart, there's no time for you to waste,
and you won't find your precious answers by staying in one place,
by giving up the chase.

To the east, to the east, the road beneath my feet.
To the west, to the west, I haven’t got there yet.
To the north, to the north, never to be caught.
To the south, to the south, my time is running out.
To the south, to the south, my time is running out.
To the south, to the south, my time is running out.

I face the horizon, everywhere I go.
I face the horizon, the horizon is my home.
I face the horizon, everywhere I go.
I face the horizon, the horizon is my home.




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