We will walk with the many or the few, on the roads that were given no names.
To dead-end streets. And cul-de-sacs. And loop-de-loos.
Off of highways and off of beaten tracks and down every dirty path, we will ride the yellow lines as we please.
Be it swerving from lane to lane, or running barefoot in the middle and in the way, or bumming a ride in and off to the side.
We will ride, we will walk, we will dance but not hide.
We will call out your name just as you drive by, and when you look back we’ll be sure to disperse with the dark of the night.
To places unknown, perhaps roads unseen.
We will follow the signs of such named roads, only to tear the last bit of them down, and rip the posts from out of the ground.
We will ensure to never follow or get swept by those forged signs no more.
We will walk across pavement and soften or shake it, we’ll crack it and break it and then we’ll remake it.
We will make our own signs and place them where we please, or maybe we’ll toss them to the hands that wave with the breeze, or we’ll send them in bottles out to the seas.
We will ride as fast as we want, or even just as slow.
Speed has never been an issue, because we are the pace and this is our show.
We will hold out our thumbs, but that could all be a trick.
Upon unknown roads with names that only we would be told, we will float and we will linger and we will never show you a way that you could ever call quicker.
Be it up-hill or down, or straight across or all around, in circles and through round-abouts, we’ll show you the way.
We will walk with the many or the few, or we will walk alone or we will walk with you.
You decide, you follow the signs.
But only if you’ve ripped them up from out the ground, and are following the rhythm of your very own sound.
The one that beats inside of your heart, found on the road or out of the lines or inside the lanes or resting between the window’s panes.
We will run across pavement with all of our toes.
Over painted tracks and little stones, on all of the roads that have ever or have never been known.
Upon all of the roads that were given not but a name, we will walk along them, and they’ll never remain just quite the same.