When i get there

I'm driving down this god-forsaken highway again.
I've got a letter on the dash, and a hundred miles left.
I'm more than halfway there, and I don't need a map ,
I've still got the directions that you wrote on the back of your yearbook photograph.
Do you remember that? It still makes me laugh.

Soon I'll be parking in that old familiar driveway again, I wonder if you'll be at home.
I should have called to let you know...
I wonder if you've planted all of those flowers and bulbs that you said you were going to plant before the winter.
I wonder if you still look the same, or if years of missing me have left their mark upon your face.
But I won't love you any less if your long hair is grey from stress or if you can't squeeze into that dress,
You know the one I mean.

And when I get there will you smile and greet me like an old friend,
Or act confused and just pretend that nothing ever happened?