It's like jazz out on the highway
Oncoming improv from truck quartets
Blasting horns and lane changes
and Miles and miles ahead
Traffic time signatures go from 4/4 to 3/4 to 6/8 to 4/4
With our hands outside the window
Catching and more and more the faster we go
It's like blues here in the city
Chords always change to I IV V
Broken men with broken guitars
With broken legs and broken hearts
It's like folk out in the country
It makes sense with all the crickets
And all the open skies and the lullabies
a nursing home of acoustic pretense