South Bound we're on our way,
Blue skies, a sunny day.
Dream while a short delay,
We can laugh at all they say.
Speaking when there are no sounds,
Acting funny, see the clowns.
We are near the placid grounds,
While mocking the little towns.
And we have our tomorrows,
And we have our yesterdays.
A little time we wish to borrow,
To speak what we want to say.
The passing day on through the night,
Sees one through on till the light.
Mister Sun, don't shine so bright,
We haven't time to even write.
Written By John Sferra & Phil Keaggy