Wednesday, January 16, 2002

I thought it was a good one

On a long and lonesome highway
East of Omaha
You can listen to the engine
Moaning out his one note song
You can think about the woman
Or the girl you knew the night before
But your thoughts will soon be wandering
The way they always do
When you're riding sixteen hours
And there's nothing much to do
And you don't feel much like riding
You just wish the trip was through

Say here I am
On the road again
There I am
Up on the stage
Here I go
Playing star again
There I go
Turn the page

Well you walk into a restaurant
Strung out from the road
And you feel the eyes upon you
As you're shaking off the cold
You pretend it doesn't bother you
But you just want to explode
Most times you can't hear 'em talk
Other times you can
All the same old cliches
Is that a woman or a man
And you always seem outnumbered
You don't dare make a stand

Out there in the spotlight
You're a million miles away
Every ounce of energy
You try to give away
As the sweat pours out your body
Like the music that you play
Later in the evening
As you lie awake in bed
With the echoes from the amplifiers
Ringing in your head
You smoke the day's last cigarette
Remembering what she said

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