Alone, with the morning burning red.
On the canvas in my head:
Painting a picture of you and me,
Driving across country in a dusty old RV,
Just the road and its majesty.
And I’m looking at you with the world in the rear view.

There you were: like a queen in your nightgown,
Riding shotgun from town to town,
Staking a claim on the world we’d found,
And I’m singing to you,
You were singing to me,
You were out of the blue to a boy like me.