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We got two cars at the end of a dirt road.
A coffee maker and running water.
You pay the bills and show me the insurance plan.
If we pay this much a month you can get sick,
And if we pay this much, you can die.
The blood in my ears sings a highway song
While the smoke from your cigarette cuts a trail
Out the screen door.
The credit card balance is coming down
And the TV picture is getting worse.
The five-year-old wants ballet shoes
And the thirteen-year-old wants money for a movie.
I just want a quiet moment.
Don't ask me the sound of one hand clapping.
Hell, when this household wakes up in the morning,
You can't hear the sound of both hands clapping.
We don't hold hands as much as we use to.
And the music can't be turned up past a whisper.
Check the e-mail and the air in the bicycle tires.
The coffee's hot and so are the rocks.
We used to use that blanket for something besides give-away.
I suck in my gut and pull up my jeans.
You joke about a washboard stomach
And I say, "It's still in there, baby.
It just got covered up with love."
Highway blues and a love that's true.
Hitch up your wagon and turn down the bed covers.
Print out a spreadsheet and hang up the laundry.
Drink black coffee and cry at the ending of "Clean and Sober."
We are refugees from a private storm called Life.
We whistle a tune from Winnie the Pooh,
Because we don't understand the words to the Back Street Boys.
The cow jumps over the moon and crash-lands
In a pubescent jungle of mixed-up emotions.
Someone talks about funds in the IRA
Then looks at me funny when I say, "Let the Irish go free!"
We vote green politics, then watch the government turn into a blue movie.
We pray for friends getting heart transplants
And worry about that smoker's cough.
I used to say all my heroes were dead
Now all my heroes have good knees.
We talk about dreams and the work of dreaming.
Now we work so our children can dream and have dreams.
Memories get old, but only the photographs fade.
We didn't borrow much time in our youth
But we still enjoy stealing kisses in the hallway.
And the dust from our highway songs has been washed clean
By the waters of this love.
A-ho!
