Lyrics
Wind is at our back. The road ahead is clear
The sun is coming up; I’ve been on the road for years
On a bus called America with my headphones playing loud
Toward a place I’ve never seen before
Out to have a look around
A mother and two kids singing travel songs
They watch the mile roll by – sometimes it takes so long
On a bus called America and they’re singing soft and low
Toward a place they’ve been dreaming of
Somewhere to go and call their own
A serviceman in the back with an empty cup of joe
His blues are in the bag – hope he’s headed home.
On a bus called America and the rain is coming down
Looking toward the place he’s been longing for
Back to the old stomping grounds
The old man wants to smoke; his wife just couchettes
The driver needs a break, been pushing hard all day
Move the weary bones
Stretch the restless mind
Feed the hungry soul
See what we can find
On a bus called America
Out to have a look around
toward a place we’ve been yearning for
Looking for some higher ground
Matt Bliton