Ready for the Roads

Where the horizon meets the skyline
and the mundane merges with the divine,
I will lay me down like memories,
lay me down like a habit past it's prime.

Melting words in the steam rising off the roadway
just begging for a kiss from my feet, away
from the baggage and the cold cage
made up of the faded sup we sip along the way.

Dance me to the edge of town
I'll pick me up where you lay me down
The road, it calls, in crimson voice,
and I, my love, am left no choice.

Where we once met is where we will part
a fitting end to an ill-fit start
I will mention you in my prayers tonight
that will leap to tongue from sorrowed heart.

The wings are plucked, the colours struck,
and fate, it seems, has squandered luck
to roll a card upon a wheel to finally seal
a wager waged in coward's pluck.

Dance me to the edge of town
I'll pick up me where you lay me down
The road, it calls, in crimson voice,
and I, my love, am left no choice.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.

Nice to know I haven't lost it. And never will.

This one just now came to me. I would've recorded it, but my voice cracked. Too true, too fresh, too necessary.