The Lonely Road of Dreams

We are riders going down the road
Driving by our dreams of America - our home
From spacious skies to fields a plenty
Rivers flowing and mountains – so many
I can’t help but wonder why my tank is so empty
The station back there some 80 miles ago
Looked abandoned and desolate on the lonely road
My tank is now full but tires are bare
Tomorrow will come and I’ll make Carson with care
And now as I sit in my room so grateful
For making it this far – a feat not so simple
I wonder what next awaits
On a lonely road of dreams

Bob