I wrote a new song. This is rare.

They paved the road behind our hay field that leads to Little River Road. "They" means "The Man & His Road Crew." I don't really have a problem with this, but I thought I'd write from the wistful, change-phobic point of view. Here ya go:

Heaven’s Streets (2009)

The county is paving the last road to the springs
It's getting harder to find back roads to drive down and sing
David Allan Coe songs to a world that sleeps the best hours of the day away

They call it "improvement" or, even better, "progress"
And property values are through the roof, I guess
But the roads Daddy taught me to drive stick on just aren't quite the same today

Don't glorify the past, I've been told
It's the canary in the coal mine for growing old
Don't let your life pass you by while you mortgage your soul
You'll still get dust in your eyes when they trade you pavement for gold

I’m gonna give this old limestone one final ride
Before the blacktop is put down to better all of our lives
Drop her into third with no foot on the gas and just let the radio play

You know, living old means you can never die young
Which sorta contradicts that old song Roger Daltrey sung
And if heaven’s streets are really paved with gold, I’m not so sure I’m gonna stay

Don't glorify the past, I've been told
It's the canary in the coal mine for growing old
Don't let your life pass you by while you mortgage your soul
You'll still get dust in your eyes when they trade you pavement for gold

Look, don't make fun of the simple rhymes. I'm not professing to be the next Dylan or anything.