(You rolling, Jon?) (Rolling) ♪ Every time I drive up on fifty-three I'm seein' sideways up ahead of me There's little lakes, there's little fountains There's little molehills made out of mountains There's little prayers that I perceive, oh Every time I drive up on fifty-four It goes past Mick's and Dick's general store There goes the signal, it's dropped for miles There goes the static at the top of the dial Every wildland screened in But only a hundred years of white men ♪ Who am I to witness, who am I to see? Who am I to notice which way a tree Fallin' alone, fall silently? ♪ Half a mile later, just past the sign There's a Winnebago, an Econoline I smell the lake on up a ways I know the exit and the parking place We used to swim out in the sun We were swimming out there under heaven We were too young to have been unforgiven ♪ Who are you to listen, who are you to care? Just someone who knows me from anywhere Where do we come from, out of thin air? I hear you whisper in the back of my hair