Krzysztof Komeda Follow

I've driven this road as a friend
I've driven this road as a slack jawed tourist
And I'm drivin' on it once again

It might be cold and long and lonely
But she's waiting on the other side
And I'm an hour closer to Sarah in the summer
And joyfully I ride, joyfully I ride

I climb through George Town, Silver Plume
The tunnel at Love lands' cold
The lake on the left is a little low
Route nine is the Breckenridge road

There's a sign right below Copper Mountain
Telling where the weather and independence run free
And I'm an hour closer to Sarah in the summer
And that's where I wanna be, that's where I wanna be

In the evening shadow of Red Butte
Up the lane from the slaughter house bridge
The first cabin the moonlight strikes
As it crests the cleft in Hunter Crick Ridge

Up from between old Red and Smuggler
Rising high on a piano bench there
And I'm an hour closer to Sarah in the summer
And what lies between beware

And the red sandstone sentinels rising high on either side
As I follow the eagle valley through the canyon where the saints reside
In Mt, Snowmass's majesty south and east out of Glennwood springs
And I'm an hour closer to Sarah in the summer
Where the roaring river sings, roaring river sings

I've driven this road as a stranger
I've driven this road as a friend
I've driven this road as a slack jawed tourist
And I'm drivin' on it once again

It might be cold and long and lonely
But she's waiting on the other side
And I'm an hour closer to Sarah in the summer
And joyfully I ride, joyfully I ride, joyfully I ride

I've driven this road as a friend
I've driven this road as a slack jawed tourist