The Meaning of Life

To sit in the almost dark of an Interstate motel room
With a bottle of whiskey and a Camel cigarette
Lit with the matches the underpaid maid
Left in the room with the clean towels and the change of linen
That will never see innocence again
And marvel at the perfect architecture of her hip
This is the meaning of life

The seven o’clock continental breakfast
Cold stale cereal and hot stale coffee
Made beige with the ersatz half and half
Brought to the breakfast bar by the underpaid lackey
Who will never see any continent other than the one in which he is currently stuck
By sorry circumstance
Probably somewhere in Texas

Load up the car
Rub the grainy sleep out of red tired eyes
Just like in the commercials
We got about a hundred million miles yet to go
To do whatever it is that we do
To pay whatever bills we owe
This is the meaning of life