Drive

By Richard Mather

Let us drive, you and I,

to a hotel in the city.

Turn the radio on and let the landscape fly.

Let the apple boughs sway in the sun if they want to.

If the wind stirs the lilacs,

what’s that to you?

Why camp out by the lake,

when we can drink brandy in a bar,

stay awake all night,

sip whisky on the bed,

whistle to strangers on the street below.

Let’s go, you and I,

to a hotel in the city.

There’s nothing here but fields of grass and open sky.

Let the others sit in chairs and fall asleep if they want to.

Tell them that we intend

to take a different point of view.

Why wait another second,

when we can be together,

just us and the lonely road,

let us go right now

and see the world from a hotel window.