Just Passing Through

There wasn’t much to see in town.
There was no scenic view.
So I just pressed the pedal down
and kept on passing through.

I traveled several miles more,
saw nothing that was new.
There was no point in stopping there.
I just went passing through.

The next town was a lot the same.
No, nothing there to do.
And so I eased on down the road;
I just kept passing through.

I may have come this way before.
I haven’t got a clue.
Sometimes I don’t know where I’ve been,
I was just passing through.

But then I had a great idea.
I’d stop and have a brew.
And I enjoyed that break so much,
I thought my trip was through.

Then some folks took a second glance,
a face they thought they knew.
Although they turned and looked away,
I knew my rest was through.

I’d like to settle down someday
like other people do.
But I’m not ready for that yet.
I’ll just keep passing through.

There are some times when I feel lost.
You may have been there, too.
You may have passed me on the road
when you were passing through.