When the sky turns into grey
The bright blue begins to fade
Striving ends another day
Working tools are put away
The bitter cold won’t cut me through
Because my mind returns to you
While warming up in my old truck
I’m thanking God for all my luck
I see the gold that I have struck
The ties we have cannot be cut
A million miles can’t hold me back
I’m driving home to our old shack
Through the wind they see me smile
Though the snow begins to pile
Work outdoors gets pretty wild
I think of you, it’s all worthwhile
A hundred hours is just a blur.
In our warm bed I feel you stir.
The Rational Element 