Nothing like a road-trip 
 to help poetic juices flow
No need to make a coin flip
    automatic choice is: GO!

    Every night i build a fire
every mountain takes me higher
travelling across the continent
     stopping at every monument
         this is what i desire.

Parked at the top of a hill
cooking dinner on the grill
a bottle of wine
i'm feeling fine
 this life is such a thrill!

Mountains wave along the horizon
    where Magdalena lays her fault
    What really is quite amazing:
 the population out here is nought

Dipping beneath the canyon rim
 i rise above the clouds again
where once volcanoes roared
      above an eagle soared
      and rocky soil crumbles
while distant thunder rumbles

i'm on a down the mountain run
    into the valley of the sun
on board the T.S. Transport One
     I'm her captain, Rebel One

  Camping on the Rio Grande
  staying on raparian land
        walking around naked and free
me and the dogs are a family of three
living like an Apache band

The Rio Grande was grander today
       water high enough to play
in the flowing mud
 by the flower bud
     splashing Pookie in the hay

      Taking an historic tour
  along the Hondo river shore
where Billy the Kid
     might have hid
during the Lincoln County War.

     Dipping my toes in the Pecos river
the rain clouds came and made me shiver
driving up to Mescalero Sands
carrying a camera in my hands
        the beauty there made me quiver

It's a family of wild mule deer!
 walking by the road quite near
   photographed in early May
before they ran too far away
from the humans which they fear.

         New Mexico! New Mexico!
     i was so sad to see you go
driving through you really slow
   i'll be back before you know.

Tracing the route of the river Brazos
crossing the plains of northern Texas
on the night of the orange half moon
             which lasted until noon

there was an oil pump where a house should be
          right in the middle of a small city
where the Comanche used to pow-wow
there are ranches  full of cow now
   and all the woods have been cut to prairie
                nothing left but grass to see
rusty old waste land
industrial farm land
         nothing left of the land of the free

Hiding in the green tree branches
       somewhere down in Arkansas
bridging across the Mississippi
     feeling like a happy hippy

           I met a puppy way out there
who Pookie chased and filled with fear
he ran out into the middle of the road
       now he'll never get to grow old
  for that puppy i shed a tear
for that puppy i sang a prayer
 i hope that he died without any pain
         i hope he gets to live again
 up to heaven all dogs are brung
         only the good die young
       that is the prayer i sung
     good-bye, my puppy, so long

   Coming into Tallahassee
carrying a couple of fleas
don't stop my van,
             if you please,
mister police man

   Heading to Atlantic Sea
feeling like a happy hippy
 don't slow me down,
 if you please,
little traffic town

crossing the dyke into Florida's plains
  returning to work is all that remains.

-Rebellious O'Megan One
 Captain, T.S. Transport One

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NOTES:
The two second-to-last paragraphs should be sung to the tune of Arlo 
Guthrie's "Coming into Los Angeles"