Heading on up on highway Twenty-Three
Easing past the North Side Fix
Praying the traffic ain't too bad
As we drive up into the sticks
Heading into Delaware town
Always tempted by their craft beer
Or maybe stop by the gas station where
One President Hayes once rested here
Just before the roadside honey stand
Perched along road two two nine
A well-worn yellow & red arrow beckons
Along with a series of rhyming signs
It's not like we have to make
A time deadline on most days
So into the Porkin' Lot we drive
Mom Wilson's, we're on our way
