(east/west, day four: Arkansas, Oklahoma)
Up earlier than I need to be, thank you palm pilot
Still faithfully keeping the time I left in the east
Already hot before the dawn and it’s anything but quiet
Truckers fire up their diesel and I rev up my beast
So good morning Arkinsaw, here I go, happy Friday
Glad I didn’t get jeltzed by an 18-wheeler overnight
All loaded up and checked out, no it’s hey hit the highway
Maybe I’ll get where I need to go while there’s still plenty of light
Get up and go—ignore that hellhound following too close
Get up and go—don’t look but it’s been tailgating ever since you left the coast
Get … up and go!
The Delta’s flat and smooth as I roll through Little Rock
Through bill and hill country into the Ozarks I climb
Nuclear One’s mist column rises and I have to make a pit stop
But the rest area’s busted up like the scene of a grisly crime
I can feel eyes watching me and it’s Deliverance creepy
Without going, I get going, and I’m glad to be gone
Trying not to think about it after shuddering deeply
I watch the road ahead and keep on keeping on
Get up and go—banish those spirits that are watching from the woods
Get up and go—rip out that devil lurking under the hood
Get … up and go!
And I’m in the roaming zone, the so-called extended network
Radio silence envelops this stretch of the ride
Through the center of the country, several hours between cities
Hope I can lose all these howlers before I reach the other side.
The road’s in such a poor state and the pavement’s substandard
And it’s hogged by more trucks projecting the stench of swine
And while the good folks that live here don’t deserve to be slandered
I’m relieved to be over the Oklahoma line
The road is better at first but soon it’s cracked and pitted
Rattle and bounce as 40 goes on interminably
The Trail of Tears haunts me and I keep my teeth gritted
Till I finally find my exit and get off at OKC
Get up and go—bypass those ghosts dancing around the lake
Get up and go—and for the love of good, don’t listen to that old hissing snake
Get … up and go!
Get up and go—exorcise that demon riding shotgun in front
Get up and go—kick him out the cab with a well-placed punt
Get up and go—one thing’s for sure, these “haints” do exist
Get up and go—so do the things you have to do in order to resist
Get … up and go!
©2024 The Hesh Inc.
The fourth day of the voyage started in Heth, Arkansas, where I joined the big-rig drivers revving up their machines just before dawn, getting ready for the day's haul. The Arkansas Delta was flat and rolled by smoothly, but soon as I was through Little Rock I was up into the Ozarks, and the roads were not in good shape. Within view of the pillar of vapor rising from the cooling tower of Arkansas Nuclear One (and its radiation zapping any signal to my cell phone), nature urgently called me and I pulled over to the next rest area I approached. I parallel-parked my rig and went up into the rest area to find the restroom ... everything was in busted-up condition and I had a distinct feeling that I was being watched. The whole scene looked like a nasty crime could be committed there, and I wasn't about to become its sacrificial victim. I just turned around and went back to the truck without taking care of business and got moving, without looking back. 'Answering the call' could wait.
More twists and turns through the Ozarks on seemingly untended roads, till I was finally over the Oklahoma state line ... at first all was neat and clean, with a well-tended, landscaped welcome center. But soon as I was past that, the road became cracked and pitted once more, and I rattled and bounced till I got to Oklahoma City. The whole time I drove, I could not help but think that this middle-of-nowhere territory was the terminus of the Trail of Tears, and the whole landscape was populated by the spirits of all who died along the forced march from the Southeast. Not soon enough I reached OKC, and I was almost all the way through town without finding a place to stop when I saw an exit leading to several hotels, and I chose the one that had the first lot I could park my truck in. And that was my Friday on the road.
Musically, I imagine the 'hook' of this song lifted from an old Ozark Airlines radio spot that I remember from my childhood (but somehow could not find when searching online), contrasting with the borderline scary suggestion of invisible spirits haunting me and dogging my steps around every twist and turn through both states.