| This ride, what a ride |
| What a ride, what a ride |
| Well, it hurts and it scars and it aches and it twists |
| It starves and it laughs and it balls up its fists |
| It’s crooked and it hollows and it soothes and it breaks |
| And it grows and it ponders and it toils and it takes |
| It stretches and it breathes and it is lonely and long |
| This ride, what a ride |
| Oh, my, what a ride |
| Well, it calls and it follows and it breaks down your door |
| It bleeds you dry and it asks you for more |
| Shows up at your work and it makes you insane |
| And it loses your keys and leaves you crying in the rain |
| It’s costly and violent and it’s a sorrowful song |
| But I am thankful by and by my love |
| And if I’m talking too much just give me a shove |
| If I’m walking too fast maybe pick it on up |
| It’s just like Old Yeller and Lonesome Dove |
| When you hate how it ends, but you can’t get enough |
| This ride |
| It lifts and it gives and it singles you out |
| It shames and it blames and forgives and it doubts |
| It inspires and it opens our eyes and it heals |
| And it coughs and it slips and it falls and it steals |
| Your memory, your dignity, your husbands and your mothers |