Way to work

The rooster crows, a brand new day begins,

Coffee's black, the quiet settles in.

Still half in dream, but yearning calls me out,

Grab my bag, crank the engine, no more doubt.

The highway calls, the sun paints the horizon red,

Every mile a promise, life's path ahead.

My hands grip tight, feel the road beneath my wheels,

This feeling in my blood, you know just how it feels.

First rays of light kiss soft upon the morning dew,

Past fields where sparkle, glistening, fresh and new.

The trees fly by, like old friends, silent, true and deep,

Every hill and every curve – secrets they keep.

The highway calls, the sun paints the horizon red,

Every mile a promise, life's path ahead.

My hands grip tight, feel the road beneath my wheels,

This feeling in my blood, you know just how it feels.

Some folks just see work, the gray of daily grind,

But for me, each drive's a treasure I can find.

Breathe the freedom, feel the wind through my hair, so clear,

On this open road, I feel at home right here.

The highway calls, the sun paints the horizon red,

Every mile a promise, life's path ahead.

My hands grip tight, feel the road beneath my wheels,

This feeling in my blood, you know just how it feels.

Yeah, the highway calls, every morning, true and strong,

My heart beats with the cylinders, all day long.

The road it pulls, the day begins,

And my old pickup sings.