From a broken family in Indiana
I followed the melody of the Songbird,
bought a bus ticket and hit the road.
She met me at the terminal, finally face to face.
That was when I knew I was finally home –
I knew I wanted her to be my last sunset.
I used to think nothing compared to a Midwest sunset
growing up on a dirt road in rural Indiana.
I used to think that my family was my home
and then I heard the melody of the Songbird.
And then when I saw her face
I knew I wanted highway over dirt road.
We left behind the cracked and dusty road
and watched Juno that night under my first Texas sunset
when we finally met face to face.
I didn’t mind that I was 1,500 miles away from Indiana.
I was finally with my Songbird
and for the first time I finally felt like I was home.
And for a while, the Camelot Inn was my home –
for a while, I was Jack Kerouac, on the road –
and each evening I would see my sweet Songbird.
We would smoke cigarettes on the balcony and watch the sunset
And we’d compare the dust of Texas to the trees of Indiana.
The sun would paint soft colors across her face.
I realized it wasn’t my past I had to face
but my future. I let go of what I thought was home
and let go of all those memories of Indiana;
riding bikes with my cousin on our pock-marked dirt road,
chasing lightning bugs with Mason jars under a rural sunset,
listening to harsh noises when all I wanted was a Songbird.
She showed me the true appearance of my Songbird.
She showed me that it wasn’t fear but love I had to face.
She showed me that Texas is only rivaled by a Colorado sunset.
She showed me it wasn’t a roof but the heart that made a home.
She showed me as long as I had a journey, she had a road.
I showed her I could leave behind Indiana.
Nothing left in Indiana, I chose to follow that Songbird melody
and hit the road. It was time to face my destiny.
I was finally home and saw my first sunset of many.