Home Free - Dave Bringhurst
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Here’s a story I know about old Bill

Him and his old lady went over the hill

Traded in that life of hearth and home

Disappeared like a rolling stone

 

Driving a funky old Winnebago

They popped up in San Diego

Settled down, but only for September

It was a time they both would remember

 

They were home free

On their way to nowhere

With no guarantee

All their baggage left behind

Like space debris

Falling back to earth

As they pushed on down the road

To make new memories

Big sky country, summertime

Albuquerque, winter was fine

Colorful New England in the fall

Springtime California had it all

So many nice places to call home

Bill and his companion were never alone

They realized they never needed stuff

Living in a free country was enough

 

They became a pair of vagabonds

Stopping here and there in the great beyond

They could feel their home was all the world

A crusty old RV, Bill and his girl

Then one winter Bill took pretty ill

They camped down the road from the hospital

She would come to see him every day

By spring, he had passed away

 

He was home free

On his way to nowhere

With no guarantee

All his baggage left behind

Like space debris

Falling back to earth

As he pushed on down the road

That became a memory

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