Into the car drearily I go
There's no avoiding it, this I know
Headphones are in; world is out
As the music comes on, I try not to pout
I stare out the window full of despair
Every Sunday morning, it's the same affair

As I watch the rolling hills, trees, and skies
The image of a lone raven reaches my eyes
He's sitting atop a branch, seemingly divine
His piercing dark eyes are looking to mine
I smile widely, knowing why he appears
He leaps from the tree, his flight easing my fears
He soars through the air, the master of the wind
In our hearts I know we are kin
As he disappears, I see the grass flutter
In the flowing air, the trees too shudder
I know the winds and know their names
I hear their voices making their claims
When I see the sun, in his bright glory
I met a smiling face who recites me a story
A story on the wind, of fires and dancing
A story of forests and May Day romancing
A story of ancestors and honor and pride
A story of candles and spirits that guide
The story is my comfort as we continue to drive
I find myself feeling suddenly alive

But soon my time in the car has come to an end
I say goodbye to my natural friends
Away from my weekly prison, I wish I could fly
Fly past the cross and over the sky
But I’m no raven that soars through the clouds
I am a child stuck on the ground.