The years rolled slowly past and I found myself alone. Surrounded by strangers I thought were my friends, I found myself further and further from my home.
If I want to work, I can. If I want to play golf, or ride my motorcycle, I can. But the rest of it is family. Sometimes you’re not really needed by your family, but you’re there. And my kids like to know I’m there.
Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy, out in the back seat of my ’60 Chevy. Workin’ on mysteries without any clues, workin’ on our night moves.
