Riding sideways on this fen bench, through the amber waves of grain On a postcard it looks pretty, but to us it just feels like pain Start thinking, slow, we got a ways to go, to the show Ice storm out of Cleveland, unleashed all its power We slipped past the hotel exit, didn't make it back for two more hours It feels like home is the Holiday Inn, for me and Slim Looking over fences, the grass ain't always green Sometimes you're the low card and sometimes you're then queen There's a lot we're learning and even more unknown Let's try staying in tune and keep the players in tone Got stopped at the Northern border, headed for a one-off in Montreal They dug up a tiny package that we didn't know we had at all It feels like a game no one can win, for me and Slim Riding shock waves on this fen bench, from sea to shining sea Hope our postcard made it, back to where we long to be Finally heading home, our soles are wearing thin Finally heading home, to friends and kin We're finally heading home, but we'll leave again, me and Slim On the road again, can't wait to be on the road again Making music with my friends