Untitled song for an American Dreamer

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Westward, moving on
Someone along a long dusty road
Following a long lost dream
I hear of a time when cowboys 
rode off into the sunset alone.
Small town saloon and such 
no one cared too much when you came or went.

And we can be like hobos my friends
riding this boxcar to see where the train goes.
We can be travelling specters on this highway
like the cowboys yesterday. 
We can walk the roads like legends . . . 
we can play the role of martyrs 
or we can do nothing at all 
remember the past.

Eastward moving back
I don't know any cowboys or hobos
And I have no cause to be a martyr for
But I am not sure that I would 
Wanted to be at home on the range 
Living through the American Mythos
And become a myth myself.

Created: Jan 24, 2011

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GaryHamrick Document Media