Sunshine on bare legs,
feet on the dash.
Wind twisting through opened windows
and newly loosened hair.
Open road with the heat dancing
waves from the black top.
Petty and Mellencamp on the radio
sets the tone for our American adventure.
Let's head to Phoenix or Santa Fe,
anywhere as long as it's with you.
The sun is calling our names,
calling us away from these cold, barren plains.
You don't belong here,
your eyes are screaming for the summer.
Your soul is tires on pavement
creating it's own humming song of freedom.
My feet are planted here,
but it's time to uproot with you.