I Married Daniel Boone.

 He prefers the rain on his face and old guitars

Cursing city lights that muffle the stars.

Have I married Daniel Boone?

He’s lived in Alaska, the Sierras, the woods,

Now he commutes with cell phone morons and gun-toting hoods

A car is a prison for this Daniel Boone.

He doesn’t like going out to movies in crowds,

No Saturday night dinners or phonies allowed

He’s a casual man, my Daniel Boone.

We’ve bought a big house overlooking a lake

He’s working long hours, whatever it takes,

If the stress doesn’t kill him, he’ll claim his stake

To live as a modern-day Daniel Boone.