Miracle Of Living

He left Boston in December for New Mexico

Determined to forget all of the faces he’d known

A little lonesome and a world of troubled mind

With a bed roll on his shoulder and a banjo on his knee

He would hitch a ride with truckers

He believed them to be free

Eighteen-wheelers roll a little further down the line

He did not meet a girl in Richmond nor in old San Antone

His vision of the Southwest would be realized alone

Alone to wonder

how his life had gone thus far

As he walked along the highway

He felt a power from inside

He found a miracle of living

In having nothing left to hide

He walked Carlsbad to White Sands

For forty days and nights

But it only took ten minutes for that man to realize:

Lord, it’s lonesome everywhere

Now he’s living back in Boston teaching English in high school

Glad to have bi-weekly wages

Glad the kids all think he’s cool

He’s a man who has learned from where he’s been

He keeps a bottle full of white sand on his table down the hall

And a worn map of New Mexico thumb-tacked on the wall

Oh, you never know

He may need to go again

As he walks along the hallway

He feels that power swell up from inside

And finds a miracle of living

In having nothing left to hide

Oh, it’s a miracle