Right turn, The neighborhood Is pretty quiet for a weekday. Left turn, The same one way To work almost everyday. Pass by the high school, A memory rerun When I was seventeen Couldn't wait for twenty-one. I pass by the church Where I married you When you were twenty-one And I was twenty-two. A stop sign, A chance to clear my mind Before the workday. Then a right turn Is where I catch Another glimpse of the highway. So I speed pass the building, I always wanted to Since I was twenty-one, Almost twenty-two. If I'd had the nerve, I'd have quit there before You turned twenty-three And couldn't take me anymore. The well known Sits in a cloud of dust Of on this weekday. My cell phone Is in about a million pieces On the highway. Speed down the highway, Rack up the miles. One hundred twenty-one, A hundred twenty-two. Roll down the window, Roll out the miles. One hundred twenty-three, A hundred twenty-four. And straight down the highway, The road offers no guarantees. (One thousand twenty-one, One thousand twenty-two.) Drive through the morning, Drive into the sun, And I'm free. (One thousand twenty-three, One thousand twenty-four)