“Roads Still Run”

Pack the cart, the morning’s fair, Dust on boots, wind in hair. Coins may thin and days may turn, Still there’s bread and tales to earn. Hey—roads still run, wheels still roll, Laugh with a friend, warm the soul. From hill to town, from gate to sun, We keep on going—roads still run! Storms may shout and nights grow cold, But fires spark and stories hold. Share the loaf, pass the tune, We’ll meet again by harvest moon. Hey—sing it wide, sing it true, There’s work to do and skies of blue. Wherever tomorrow’s banners spun, We’ll find our way—roads still run!