There used to be a Main Street across this country…And that good old road took you all the way…From Clark and Ogden Streets in Chicago…To Lincoln and Olympic in L.A…I grew up somewhere in the middle…Me and my daddy watched them roll through town…I saw license plates from States I’d only dreamed of…They waived goodbye and put that hammer down.
The restless and the desperate, the young ones and the old…All together like a river flowed…Lord I hope they all got where they were going…All the children of the Mother Road
The dust bowl Okies stopped in Arizona…To trade their family things for gasoline…Just to find themselves outnumbered by the thousands…Who’d already traveled down that road of dreams.
When the war was over, all the baby boomers…Loaded up their cars and grabbed their kids…Just to count the miles and cuss those big freight liners…And count the twenty-two hundred miles of Route 66.
Now the hot top is just ranch roads and runways…And a way of life for some folks is all but gone…You can almost see the ghost towns from the fast lane…Of the superhighway we are all driving on.
The restless and the desperate, the young ones and the old…All together like a river flowed…Lord I hope they all got where they were going…All the children of the Mother Road. Alan Rhody
The Adventures of Barry Brink 