Saturday, November 13, 2010

song of the open road

by jack dale coody

illustrated by rhoda penmarq




i am a son of the open road
a wanderer bold and free
i shoulder no boss's heavy load
i sip no sunday tea

i've picked up butts in fifty states
been in jail in thirty-two
i've sung with the wind, and laughed with the fates
and to my own self i'm true

if your aunt muriel comes to town
don't ask me to play croquet
i'll spill champagne on her nice pink dress
i'll make the vicar faint away

confucius, now, he'd be my pal
michelangelo, he'd pat me on the back
and i've still got an eye for a pretty gal
as i whistle down life's track

i am a son of the open road
a wanderer bold and free
i shoulder no boss's heavy load
i sip no sunday tea



3 comments:

Old 333 said...

Love the shooting star at the end. Awesome. Thanks for the piece - a morning pleasure, with coffee and Hawkwind.
PG

Dan Leo said...

An instant classic.

human being said...

i even heard a guitar playing in the background...
so soulful!





"and to my own self i'm true"

how beautifully you summed up what each journey -real or mystical- should come to...


namaste!