Slow
Slow
Once in a while I fill up the Suburban and head for the outskirts of town
Out where the pavement surrenders to gravel and dirt
Hundreds of farm road crisscrossing Nebraska
Sprinkled with tiny towns just a block long
And I drive
And I drive slow
It feels like I’m on some kind of an ocean and my Chevy’s some kind of boat
I can set my compass any which way I choose
Drifting through waves of sorghum and soybeans
And endlessly rolling ribbons of corn
And I sail
And I sail slow
I used to wonder just how fast a tractor could go
But back in the city I find myself wondering just how slow
I can’t explain the sensation of freedom – that opens up in my soul
It’s something I never feel in the crush of the rush
It’s like I’m rising way above heartbreak
And all that matters blooms in a field
And I grow
And I grow slow
And I grow
I grow slow