As I ride down the highway, everything seems fine.
I'm late for my appointment and my log book is way behind.
I think about my girlfriend so many miles away.
Well at least she was my girlfriend, she may be someone else's today.
I worry about all my bills as I top all these hills.
I feel like all will be fine as I'm almost to the end of the line.
Truckers are passing my slow truck, giving me those evil looks.
I think I need a secretary to take care of all my books.
As I go running down the road,
all things going helter skelter.
I am happy to be driving down this road
in my rolling homeless shelter.
Copyright ©2005 Paul E. Withers
