Last of the American Boys

He puts his rucksack on

Taking courage from the Dawn of the Sun

He straps his boots on tight

Like a soldier who is ready to March

He is self-assured

A cool man headed into Adventure

He won’t turn back now

He’s the Last of the American Boys

 

He wears his cuts n’ scrapes

Like a badge of Tested Mettle

He is hitchin’ a ride

Like a smilin’ thumb on the Road

He left his stuff behind

While givin’ the Dow Jones the finger

He makes enough to survive

As he’s movin’ from place to place

 

Like a Navigator at the

Heart of the Expedition

He is one of a kind

He’s the Last of the American Boys

 

He plays his ole’ six string

Singin’ songs of the open highway

He is a sucker for

All the mountains he has yet to climb

He will trim his sails

Catchin’ the Trade Winds out on the ocean

He’s a travelin’ man

A rebel needing no cause

 

Like an Indiana Jones

Off on another crazy Adventure

He just can’t stay home

He’s the last of the American Boys

 

He puts his rucksack on

Taking courage from the Dawn of the Sun

He straps his boots on tight

Like a soldier who is ready to March

He will trim his sails

Catchin’ the Trade Winds out on the ocean

He’s a travelin’ man

A rebel needing no cause

And we need him to Live

Cause, he’s the Last of the American Boys.

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Categories: Blogging, Character Development, Fear, philosophy, Poetry, Self-improvement, Society, Spirituality, Travel, Vagabonding, Writing | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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