Carl Stevens' Poem: 'Where'd All The Tolls On The Toll Road Go?'

Everybody driving will soon want to know
Where'd all the tolls on the toll road go?
A year from now I'll call my Uncle Joe,
Who'll be watching TV, some silly show,
About a dying quail or a screaming crow,
I'll be on the phone, I'll say "Uncle Joe,"
Where'd all the tolls on the toll road go?
We'll be driving in the rain, driving in the snow
Because we've always got somewhere to go
We're all so important, don't you know,
We'll be on the Pike, going to and fro,
Wondering "Where'd all the tolls on the toll road go?"
I'll call my brother and say "Guess what, bro?
We ain't got no tolls no more,
All those toll booths had to go."
And I know what my brother will want to know:
He'll want to know - "Where'd all the tolls on the toll road go?"
Seasons come and seasons go,
Change is certain, that much I know,
The summer sun turns to winter snow,
Change is reality's status quo,
A fast young man becomes old and slow,
A galloping colt in time hears "whoa,"
What used to new eventually becomes old,
But "where'd all the tolls on the toll road go?"
Are they a pile of rubble in Southboro?
In a landfill in Attleboro?
We'll be driving under gantries and we'll all want to know
"Where'd all the tolls on the toll road go?"

Listen to Carl's poem: