Track byNanci Griffith
From Boston to Southshore in the back of the bus ... it's the last winter storm of the season and such And I am lost to the fiction of the book in my lap the snow makes me drowsy ... while the dreams roll and tumble ... It's a long way to Texas ... it's a long way back home it's a three hour flight on the plane when I go ... away from this snow from Boston to Southshore where the dreams roll and tumble ... and bring the prose to the wheel ... Bring the prose to the wheel ... I'm not drivin' these wheels I'm not drivin' these wheels Bring the prose to the wheel ... I'm not drivin' these wheels I'm not drivin' these wheels ... (today) That face in the window ... it's one I should know but it's never been haloed by New England snow ... and the child 'cross the isle is sleepin' away while the soldier behind me lets his dreams roll and tumble my way ... Bring the prose to the wheel ... I'm not drivin' these wheels I'm not drivin' these wheels Bring the prose to the wheel ... I'm not drivin' these wheels I'm not drivin' these wheels ... (today) This cradle of the interstate makes me weary of dreams the hurt they cause is now ... restless ... it seems Oh soldier, dear soldier, 'ya keep your dreams to yourself ... my hearts rolled and tumbled 'till I've put it on the shelf Bring the prose to the wheel ... I'm not drivin' these wheels I'm not drivin' these wheels Bring the prose to the wheel ... I'm not drivin' these wheels I'm not drivin' these wheels ... (today) From Boston to Southshore in the back of the bus it's the last winter storm of the season and such And I am lost to the fiction of the book in my lap ... the snow makes me drowsy ... while the dreams roll and tumble ...