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