Sung to the tune of
"Sweet Baby James"
by
James Taylor
(Sorry, James)
There is an old Papa who lives in a home
His truck and his Dutch Freeze are his only companions
As he sits at the wheel for four boring hours
Waiting for Wilsonville finally to come
Every half hour he stops at a rest stop
Ejecting some caffeine and stretching his wings
Then back to his driving his journey continues
He sings about Pepsi and bladders and things
And so is the turnpike from Medford to Portland
The boys' cakes seem dreamlike
On account of the frosting
With no miles behind me and two-hundred-plus to go
There's a song that I sing when a grandson turns seven
There's a song that I sing when a grandson turns nine
There's a song that I sing after exiting I-5
To a middle-aged woman who's now thirty-five
Happy Birthday, Threesome
We celebrate birthdays in June
I'm hitting the road with a fairly light load
Including some gifts and a toothbrush and clothes
And I will be seeing you soon
Probably late afternoon