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Description
A song about a trip to the Oregon coast by a single mother and her 10 year old son.
The boy in the title was a friend of my son. His mom Vera penned the lyrics on a trip down to their summer place and brought them back to me.
This is what I came up with.
The boy in the title was a friend of my son. His mom Vera penned the lyrics on a trip down to their summer place and brought them back to me.
This is what I came up with.
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Lyrics
Max and I drove south last week looking for the poetry of the road.
Lookin' for the slant ryhmes of the red lights and white lines.
I took the wheel and he posed the questions,
"Isn't it amazing everything has a name?"
We packed up that dusty red jeep with everything we thought we'd need.
Mayonaise and mustard and cans of chili beans
And headed down that tunnel between two truckers speeding. I close my eyes and let their current pull me.
And while the beat of the tire whine rumbles through our driftin' minds
Telelphone poles, street signs and neon red night lights,
Cassette tapes of skinny girls add their wail to the soundtrack of our buddy movie rerun.
Max and I drove south last week looking for the poetry of the road.
Lookin' for the slant ryhmes of the red lights and white lines.
I took the wheel and he posed the questions,
"Who ever invented napalm and why?"
Then we turned west to the slice in the clouds where the light bled the sky
Over bridges and water and steep mountain pass.
I would have painted that sight if I could have stopped
But we flew down to where the land met it's mate.
Parked the car. We said, "Leave the shoes. We're done for the day, for a week, for a life."
And we walked until dark by the low thundering hum
Of that patient old place to where we had come,
Then we ate and we slept in the open shade to the soundtrack of some other fate...
Max and I drove south last week looking for the poetry of the road.
Lookin' for the slant ryhmes of the red lights and white lines.
I grabbed the wheel. I had the wheel.
I took the wheel and he posed the questions,
"Aren't you glad we're not driving to L. A.? We can't drive to L. A. Should we drive to L.A.?
Lookin' for the slant ryhmes of the red lights and white lines.
I took the wheel and he posed the questions,
"Isn't it amazing everything has a name?"
We packed up that dusty red jeep with everything we thought we'd need.
Mayonaise and mustard and cans of chili beans
And headed down that tunnel between two truckers speeding. I close my eyes and let their current pull me.
And while the beat of the tire whine rumbles through our driftin' minds
Telelphone poles, street signs and neon red night lights,
Cassette tapes of skinny girls add their wail to the soundtrack of our buddy movie rerun.
Max and I drove south last week looking for the poetry of the road.
Lookin' for the slant ryhmes of the red lights and white lines.
I took the wheel and he posed the questions,
"Who ever invented napalm and why?"
Then we turned west to the slice in the clouds where the light bled the sky
Over bridges and water and steep mountain pass.
I would have painted that sight if I could have stopped
But we flew down to where the land met it's mate.
Parked the car. We said, "Leave the shoes. We're done for the day, for a week, for a life."
And we walked until dark by the low thundering hum
Of that patient old place to where we had come,
Then we ate and we slept in the open shade to the soundtrack of some other fate...
Max and I drove south last week looking for the poetry of the road.
Lookin' for the slant ryhmes of the red lights and white lines.
I grabbed the wheel. I had the wheel.
I took the wheel and he posed the questions,
"Aren't you glad we're not driving to L. A.? We can't drive to L. A. Should we drive to L.A.?
nowhere to go..." (Lennon-MacCartney). Nice clean sound on a well played
guitar. Fine vocals. Pensive lyrics. A worthwhile foray into this genre.
Thanks for posting this.