From the recording Dreams & Ghosts: A Family Album

In his later life, my Great-Granddaddy Clyde began writing his account of a 1920 road trip he took with his young family from their home in Springfield, Missouri, to Colorado Springs. To my dismay, he never finished writing down his story, so in order to put it to song, I had to learn an important lesson of storytelling: you don't need all the facts to get at the truth of the story.

Lyrics

They say a man in his prime is a true sight to see
Enough to make boys jealous and women swoon
He swaggers through the town and he mounts his gallant steed
And rides off beneath the rising moon
Once there was a time when I was such a man
These days I find I must convince myself that I still am
 
As is usually the case, the trip was conceived
By the most important women I know
My mother, my sister and my wife all agreed
We should vacation in Colorado
 
How lovely, they said, to take the babies along
All their bottles, and their cloth diapers, too
My brother-in-law said he, too, would have gone
But for a “pressing business matter” to attend to
How this ride would - I knew it was up to me
To take charge of my steed and herd
So I loaded up the bags with a cowboy’s dignity
In a 1919 Hudson 7-passenger
 
On the road to Colorado, don’t know how, but I know why
On the road to Colorado, another line across my brow for this family of mine
 
Now it’s every cowboy’s dream to be out on open plains
Without a care, without a single doubt
Till babies need to a eat, and their mothers to complain
You’re left without a choice but to dismount
If you’d never tried to find a tree in Kansas for to rest
Then my friend, believe me, you’ve been spared
It’s only flies you’ll find, they’ll be happy to attest
To their keen sense for simple human fare
 
On the road to Colorado, don’t know how, but I know why
On the road to Colorado, another line across my brow for this family of mine
 
Now it’s true I have no horse, I have no hat, nor pair of boots
And they say a man is just a man
But lately I sense God and this road are in cahoots
Against me, though I do the best I can
 
We reached Wichita and stopped at the local inn
To execute our grandest operation
The clothesline held the diapers, the sterno stove was rigged
To treat bottles to proper sterilization
And in the morning as we left, those damn diapers still not dry
I protested, but alas, to no avail
Were hung out the car windows and with all my manly pride
The white flags of truce thus did prevail
 
On the road to Colorado, don’t know how, but I know why
On the road to Colorado, another line across my brow for this family of mine