Short Road We’re On

by David McAdams

Genre: Folk


the age of the hoboe is dying
its disappearing with time
trains so fast race on by them
leaving the drifters in the dust behind
poets of the highway are passing
writers of the road will soon be gone
nothing and noone is everlasting
its a mighty short road we’re on

my father was one of those
who drifted out west from Tennessee
I admired him for the life he chose
and much of him was passed onto me
I’ve done my share of wandering
at times I felt like a vagabond
but lately I’ve been pondering
its a mighty short road I am on

the cowboys have rode into the sunset
their trail has come to an end
ranches and rodeos are all that is left
for this wide open space loving men
the gypsies have circled their wagons
their travelin days are done
their roving ways have been abandoned
its a mighty short road that they’re on

the road is everchanging
as it runs away from the dawn
our places are rearranging
on the mighty short road that we’re on

so if you’re out and a ramblin about
and you see a ghost in the wind
tip your hat for without a doubt
you’re sure to meet him again
for all roads lead in one direction
where the angels sing their mystical songs
we are all but a reflection
of the mighty short road that we’re on

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