Driving with Easton is a Friday night – some Fridays are quiet, spent alone. 

And others are filled with parties, movies, and friends. 

Like riding in a million-dollar car on a twisty back road in our hometown. 

Driving with E smells like the Goody’s on Broadway, 

tastes like a Kehde’s fry dipped in their famous ranch. 

It feels like a cool summer night out by a bonfire; 

it sounds like George Strait blasting through the speakers, 

and looks like the first farm truck I’d ever ridden in. 

 

Nights that tasted like forever; people that would last forever. 

But they just weren’t forever. 

 

They’d yell “Buck the Furg” as we passed our rival high school. 

Something we’d never get in trouble for but would pretend we will. 

Tipping cows and their family’s new combine, 

A foreign world of traditions, terms, and customs. 

The girl who grew up in cities and suburbs with all the knowledge in the world, 

dumbfounded by a small-town charmer. 

A small-town boy who tricked me into falling in love with a town,

While he fell in love with me. 

 

E made the town my own, gifted me a lifetime pass to my new town, 

And the rights to my home. 

He called me Rey and gave me a whole new world, 

with forever friends, forever memories, 

and a forever love. 

 

He knew what the year ahead of us would bring, 

even though the rest of us didn’t want to see it. 

We’ll only be memories soon, 

We’ll only be weekend trips and winter breaks soon enough. 

Like a thrilling movie, with a disappointing end. 

 

Even still, our high school nights gave us unparalleled memories. 

Driving with Easton is like a Friday night that I get to have for the rest of my life.