Jim Croce

Like the pine trees lining the winding road,
I got a name, I got a name;
Like the singing bird and the croaking toad,
I got a name, I got a name.
And I carry it with me like my daddy did
But I'm living the dream that he kept hid.
Moving me down the highway, rolling me down the highway
Moving ahead so life won't pass me by.
Like the north wind whistlin down the sky,
I got a song; I got a song.
Like the whippoorwill and the baby's cry,
I got a song; I got a song,
And I carry it with me and I sing it loud;
If it gets me nowhere, I'll go there proud.