Traveling passed
Lookout Mountain
I'm seeking a fountain of youth
And
A soft spoken soothed tone of
Truth
In the balmy high horizon
Passing shadows caressing the
Mountain
Little bright lights in the creases
Along pine trees
Shine like lanterns in the sky
With my fists  clenched around
A steering wheel
Breathing in
Swerving out of the dashed
Lines of road
I like the way it sounds
This place called
"Lookout Mountain"
(Exit 256)