On a bridge by a rapid stream
Barefoot—my sister and me
The river swims underneath
These old, sunburned roads
Hot buzzing and harmless bees
Fleeing, fussing and skinning our knees
In these veins and capillaries,
These memories of home...
These old roads
(they go where the river flows)
These old roads
(resurfacing)
These old roads
(they go where they always go)
These old roads
(and me)
There’s a wasp in my rear-view mirror
I’m scared and I’m trying to steer clear
Out on this blacktop road
In the holiday sun
I’ll poke at these power windows
I’ll stir it up—and hope that it goes away
Like hot stirrups and stinging goads,
So many ways to get stung...
These old roads
(they go where the bloodline flows)
These old roads
(resurfacing)
These old roads
(they go where they always go)
These old roads
(and me)
But I’m taking a ride tonight
There’s a crossroads where I just might
Blaze a trail to something…
These old roads
(they go where the river flows)
These old roads
(resurfacing)
These old roads
(they go where they always go)
These old roads
(and me)
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