Oklahoma dawn, B-M-W purrs
Key West first, salt air in my pores
Palm trees sway, twenty-one day clock
Gas receipt stamped, I never stop
Four corners callin', coast to coast
Ten thousand six hundred miles, I'm doin' the most
Fresh grass, desert rain, fresh bread and pine
Sore in the saddle, but the road is mine
Madawaska north, cold wind bites
Maine pines whisper through the night
Blaine border, gray mist and sea
Washington rain wash over me
Four corners callin', coast to coast
Ten thousand six hundred miles, I'm doin' the most
Fresh grass, desert rain, fresh bread and pine
Sore in the saddle, but the road is mine
San Ysidro south, blazing heat
California sun burns my seat
Back through the heartland, dust and storm
Five hundred miles, day after day, reborn
Cold to hot, hot to cold
Old Beamer never lost its soul
Smells of the blacktop, alive and free
Fresh bread and sage and new-cut green
Four corners conquered, towel and patch
S-C-M-A rules, I made the match
Ten thousand six hundred miles of pure delight
Oklahoma start to the edge of night
Sore for three weeks, smile for a year
That '07 ride still echoes here
Four corners thunder, under my wheels
The open road… the way it feels