Four Hundred Thirty Seven Miles
to a place of hope and possibility.
Not so much a trip as a voyage;
a quest not to be taken lightly.
In your ears, the asphalt seas whisper:
Take to the road, soldier.
There is always a way home for those
who have the guts to risk it.
Crafty Odysseys found the will;
his reward was the great, rooted bed
and the arms of his lonely Queen.
Do you have the strength and courage?
Only take to the highway and drive.
Four Hundred Thirty Seven Miles;
Not far to see an Angel smile; to hear
ancient, faithful Argos  bark again.
Four Hundred Thirty Seven Miles.
The road for the brave always leads home.