There is not a lot to do in a car
Traveling down America’s highways.
Though the distance to go is very far,
We wish we could skip these tedious days
Of watching endless fields of golden grain
Go by outside the passenger window.
There’s never going to be a refrain
To the tick of the monotonous show.
I turn the dial looking for music
That can turn this boring day exciting,
But the stations I can find are tragic
Because it is only Christians talking.
I think I am about to lose my grip
As I continue on this long road trip.
John Collings 