Where We Never Look--The Forgotten Places

All Country Roads Lead West

My dad took me driving two season's past.

We found an old backroad with trees like masts.

He traded me seats, and I took over the wheel.

We talked about a lot of things...the whole "shpeel".

I drove us over hills and past farms.

Feeling relaxed in the truck's arms.

Occasionally, I'd notice the compass

Into the sunset leading us.

The needle always pointed West,

Leading me to believe that backroads at their best

Always followed the setting sun

As on and on they run,

I will always remember that day bathed in golden light

Without a tear or any a fight.

My father and I drove West as kinsmen

Back to places we'd never been.