My Destination

So many interstates have I endured South of the Mason-Dixon Where cotton fields and swamps and Jesus saves Upon my eyes wind up fixing. Towns feel so familiar, Yet I've never taken their exit. Cities equal more time spent Escaping the ugly edifice. As a child, dreams filled the ride As we made off for our destination. Now, familiar music tags along As I criss-cross this great nation. In forty years, we've come a long way. The rebel yell begins to fade, But my destination will remain Southward where I'll be sipping tea in the shade.