I remember the night when we ran out of gas
On that dimly lit desolate road,
When we walked back for miles, hand in hand all the way,
As we searched for the nearest abode.

We were young, you and I, we were blithesome and bold,
As we strolled through the dark without fear;
How we laughed and we sang, with our fingers entwined,
And conspired on our coming career.

Now we've logged lots of miles and our rubber is thin,
We've survived many bumps and detours,
We've been stranded at times and repeatedly lost,
But my hand is still safely in yours.

I no longer can see quite as far as before,
I have trouble decoding each sign,
But I care not a whit should we run out of gas
Just as long as your hand is in mine.

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