In my Civic
A 10 hour drive
In autumn
Through the country
Rolling hills
Of golden yellows
Orangey reds
Warm greens
Through these hills
I pass through tunnels
Tunnels lead to tolls
For whom the bell tolls
Time marches on
For when the state tolls
My money is gone
Three tolls
Have taken their toll
It's highway robbery
In Octollber
I pay a price
To see these painted hills
The elevation
Of the Appalachians
Requires a king's ransom
By the toll reaper
Will I ever see Gettysburg?
Time will toll
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