Song/Poem

We drive back in the afternoon.

Somehow we pick the hottest time of day.

The mountains were beautiful.

And so were you.

It's hot and muggy in this old car.

The A/C broke last January.

Kind of ironic, don't you see?

We didn't need to stay cold back then.


But summer's here. The sweat leaves traces on the steering wheel.
I'm not dead yet, but I oddly feel I should be in bed by now.
But, somehow, I know I've got a long way to drive. And there are things left unsaid.


The house was a mess when we first left.

I hope that it hasn't gotten worse.

The dog was alive and well.

I hope she checked on him from time to time.

I'd like to see him again.

All of these concerns run through my head.

I know there are things left unsaid.

I should open my mouth.

And I almost do, but you are asleep in the passenger seat.



But summer's here. The sweat leaves traces on the steering wheel.
I'm not dead yet, but I oddly feel I should be in bed by now.
But, somehow, I know I've got a long way to drive. And there are things left unsaid.