Amy Martin
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Three Good Rides

Amy Martin


David asked if I liked Beethoven as we pulled out of the truckstop
He played me all his favorite numbers from Youngstown to Chicago
He was a sweet and careful one
Ten-four man, I hear that, buddy
It gets lonely out here, he said

Wash off the road grease
Turn down the bed sheets
Maybe the road’s not the only place where freedom reigns
I’ve had three good rides, and now I’m home

Chuck, he killed a man, but you would never know it
He called his wife just to say he loved her, and to ask after his youngest daughter
Rode me all the way to Ogallala
He bought me a chocolate milkshake and showed me his bullet wound
The tabloids don’t lie, he said, it’s a deep peace, and a big, white light

Tom got me to Billings and he might have liked to take me further
He lost his boy Levi Jo at the age of fifteen
Aurora danced in Wyoming
As the moon followed the sun down
When I asked him if he’d like to go, he said, they wouldn’t have to ask me twice

Open the guitar case
Find me the toothpaste
Put a can of soup on, feed the cats, unplug the phone
I’ve had three good rides, and now I’m back to my sweet Montana home

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