THE STORY OF MY LIFE

THE STORY OF MY LIFE

When I was just a little boy
I’d lay awake at night
I’d hear the trucks on highway 5
Shifting gears and taking flight

I felt a stirring deep within
That I could not explain
It started at my feet
And it ended in my brain

I’d stare outside the windows
All day while I’m at school
I felt a pull to go somewhere
I would have to break the rules

There was something deep inside my bones
I felt a need to wander
Florida was calling me
I had to get down yonder

I packed a bag with things I’d need
I waited until night
By the time they’d find my empty bed
I’d be miles out of sight

I hitched a ride down highway 5
And then to 91
I only had a general plan
But already having fun

Then I was on the 95
I crossed the GW bridge
New Jersey Delaware Maryland
And now I miss my fridge

Through the Carolinas
Now Georgia’s on my mind
Jacksonville Daytona
And the beach’s did I find

I bummed around for months there
Sleeping where I may
No money no home no worries
But homelessness began to weigh

I called my dad back home
I told him I was still alive
I asked him to sign a waiver
To join the army I did strive

The army was glad to have me
It was shortly after nam
They needed meat in uniforms
Even though the world was calm

I asked them if they’d send me
Somewhere nice and warm
They assured me that they would
They sent me to Germany in a snow storm

For three short years I travelled
Along the autobahn
They taught me how to drive a truck
And to trucking I was drawn

Then they sent me stateside
They released me from the green
I bought a bike and grew my hair
I was the wildest you’d ever seen

I rode the Adirondacks
I rode the Berkshire’s too
I knew that I should get a job
But what I had no clue

So I drifted to the Deep South
You know I hate the cold
12 months of biking weather
I thought that I’d found gold

It’s 40 years later
I’ve travelled my whole life
20 as a lonely trucker
20 with my wife

Now we sit on the front porch
We wait there for the sun
I contemplate my life
Cause I know I’m nearly done

I think about my wandering bones
My need for forward motion
Some may call it a curse
But have they seen all the oceans

I’ve lived a life that took its toll
And now I pay the piper
Days and weeks without good sleep
Behind the windshield wiper

You’d think that I would have enough
You’d think I’d be content
But that is not the way I choose
For someone else that’s meant

The wind it pulls the wrinkles out
The helmet hides my gray
Arthritic hands on clutch and throttle
I ride the years away

When my creator calls me home
I say this with conviction
I’ll thank him for my wandering bones
And my traveling addiction