Lonely bus station
somewhere near Des Moines
while she slept
her son wondered off

city to city she travels
in search of her tow headed son
and under the moonlight
a cold august night
her songs can be heard
while she looks for her son

endless highways
blacktop roads
tires spin in circles
just as her mind
she wants her lad
but where did he go

city to city she travels
in search of her tow headed son
and under the moonlight
a cold august night
her songs can be heard
while she looks for her son

each whistle stop
each stage a spotlight
a guitar in hand
she serenades the crowds
in the shadows her eyes do glance
looking for her son whom she’ll never find

city to city she travels
in search of her tow headed son
and under the moonlight
a cold august night
her songs can be heard
while she looks for her son

one night in some small rural town
a tow headed teen steps up to the mic
he belts out a tune and strums his guitar
singing of a mother he wished he could find

city to city he travels
in search of his red headed mother
and under the moonlight
a cold august night
his songs can be heard
while he looks for his mum

02/17/2005

Posted on 02/18/2005
Copyright © 2024 Mark Maxey