1969

It's late...1969... the sun's going down as we turn west for the last time. Driving this long black Caddy, rolling along the boulevard of freedom at 30 cents a gallon - step on the gas, unafraid of what must pass... Enjoy the ride in this cool dark lady; while somewhere, way over 'there', young men are dying, and none of us really know why. Back here we're feverishly trying to spend the last of our freedom, before our innocence says goodbye. The end of a decade, the last free age, hitch-hikers, hippies, free-thinkers, and Jesus freaks - all original American prophets, hanging on just outside of the cage; while around the globe everything's going down like that western sun, and nothing will ever be the same when it's done. We'll keep riding in that Caddy...our last free ride, long hair blowing in the wind, not realizing: it'll never be this way, ever again...