Life Ain't Perfect, but It's Beautiful

I went out on my own – just followed the open road that led me into the unknown.
Sometimes, when life gets numb, you gotta take heed to the feelings that come and follow em.
Come across slick streets and beggars at truck stops, all-night girls and lovers at bus stops, comedians in bars drinking their jokes down.
Find the grey skies or where trains sigh by, where you’re lost but lovin’ it, sad but can’t cry, away from what’s known, friends and loved ones, all on your own and fallin’ snow’s your lullaby.
Cause I’ve seen a tennis match and I shouldn’t live like that. I oughta wander like a stoic cat and watch the rain pitter-pat.
When you fall asleep on a pitch dark road and you wake up in your car to mountains that glow under the risin sun reflectin off the ice and snow;
where it rains so much steps are covered in moss, where the fog’s so dense you’re lost in your own backyard;
when you coast down a mountain into plains that roll across an arid desert that formed long ago, and everything you see is sun-burnt red or gold;
where wind cyclones down through pines or you pick grapes through a New Mexican sunrise,
do you see God?
Somewhere out there beyond routine; somewhere paddlin through the jet-stream; somewhere growin in a forest of pine trees, somewhere farther than any hawk could see, somewhere closer than you are to me and everywhere in between, do you see God?
When you’re tryin to get to shelter and it’s seven degrees, and that don’t even matter cause she’s just so sweet, and her smile peaks through her chattering teeth;
where expression’s just a cloud or a child that points and says, “Daddy, don’t that look just like a unicorn?” and Daddy see’s it too, cause Daddy never gave up.
He pays the bills after playin with his child; his marriage ain’t perfect but disagreements are mild; and at least once a week the whole family does something wild.
Where church is a treehouse, God is a chapel mouse, to pray we roughhouse and love is worship.
When we realize the sun shines even behind cloudy skies and with each rain we’re baptized, we’ll all be saved.

Perch