Most my adult life I’ve had to listen to enviro whackos.
Democrats that hate personal freedom.
They can’t regulate you, if you have a car and
can drive from Seattle to Miami whenever
you please.
I always knew we have way more oil and
mineral resources than they will acknowledge.
It means they can’t control you, like
having to depend on a subway, bus, or train they
set a schedule for.
Freedom to move about, live where you want,
go to schools, that don’t offend you,
offends them.
Democrats hate freedoms they can’t control.
Most of my life I’ve heard the cry,
of voices fearing liberty,
who’d trade the wheel for leash and tie,
and call it wise necessity.
They’d bind the road, confine the range,
regulate the miles you roam,
forget that freedom, vast and strange,
begins with choosing where is home.
They speak of limits, oil, and earth,
but seldom of the will to go—
for motion is the measure’s worth
of all the dreams that humans know.
So let me drive from coast to coast,
from sea to shining liberty;
the open highway is the host
that keeps the soul forever free.