Originally posted on RuckerPedia:
Driving fast down sun-baked country roads Countless tiny towns are silhouettes in my dust I dare not stop for fear of the unknown I have this little suspicion they don’t like my kind – The kind different from them The kind not of their own It’s not that I blame them, really It’s not their fault that they’re wrong – My destination is clear No place in particular Just enjoy the scenic route Before night claims the scenery – There’s a fork in my roads of chance My front tire takes the brunt of it I pull over to the soft shoulder My good luck having failed me – Rear view mirror, another driver is nearing A big red pickup, a good ol’ boy pulls next to me Sweat beading on my brow now, I’m unsure of his intention I ease out of the car, though I’m thankful for his attention – “You’re not from around here,” he says, I think he’s a fast learner I say, “No, I’m from the…