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Road Trip
Windows down, music playing in my car
I went down the country roads the view was a dream.
A dream like becoming a star and eating beluga caviar.
So I worked hard and my career picking up steam,
I concentrated, focused and became a rock star
And I wouldn’t have been able to do it without a guitar.
After I played my shows I cleaned my guitar
And packed all my equipment back into my fancy car.
I looked up into the sky and saw a shooting star
So I made a wish and it was more of a dream.
It was making me think so hard it created steam.
But after all I really just wanted more caviar.
I thought about why it was so expensive and pronounced ca-vi-ar
Every bite was like being in a fancy restaurant with a background guitar.
The strumming got more aggressive creating steam,
The upbeat tone played as we walked to the car.
We got in and flew down the road like a dream
Gazing towards the black sky as I wished upon a star.
But for how lonely could it be, that little star.
I saw it every time I drove at night and named it caviar.
For how subtle the star lit like a dim light in a dream.
The sound of the hands on the clock strumming like a guitar
As I count my sheep, I suddenly hear the sound of a car.
I put my jacket on, looked outside and nothing but steam.
I looked and searched to find what made the steam
But there it is again my very star,
Shining unusually bright tonight, like a brand new car.
I wish upon that star about every time I see it and ask for a jar of caviar.
This time I heard the strumming again and asked for a guitar
And that’s how the career began, when it was all just a dream.
The life after being a star is not such a dream
Thought it is not so bad either, after all the steam.
Life has it’s ups and downs and will play you like a guitar.
But moments like that last forever, just like my star.
The night sky is alive with stars looking like caviar,
As I drove along, staring at the sky, in my car.
I got in my car and drove for my dreams
Eating caviar, lightly steamed.
For how my star was shining very bright
The last thing I heard was the strumming of a guitar that night.
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My first submission about travel.