Diamonds on my windshield
Tears from heaven
Pulling into town on the Interstate
Pulling a steel train in the rain
The wind bites my cheek through the wing
Always makes me sing
Fast flying, freway driving There's a Duster tryin' to change my tune
Pulling up fast on the right
Rolling restlessly, twenty
Wishing he was home in a Wiscosin bed
Wisconsin hiker with a cue
Colder then a welldigger's ass
fifteen feet of snow in the East
Oceanside it ends the ride, San Clemente coming up
Sunday desperadoes slip by, gas station closed, cruise with a dry back
Theatre's fillin' to the brim
Orange drive
Slave girls and a hot spurn bucket full of sin
Metropolitan area with interchange and connections
FlyBlack and white plates, out of state, running a little bit late Sailors jockey for the fast lane
Rolling hills and concrete fields
101 don't miss it
The broken line's on your mind You see your sign, cross the line, signalling with a blink
Eights go east and the fives go north
The merging nexus back and forth The radio's gone off the air
Gives you time to think
You ease it out and you creep across
Intersection light goes out
You hear the rumble
As you fumble for a cigarette
One more block, the engine talks
Blazing through this midnight jungle
Remember someone that you met
And whispers 'home at last'
It whispers, whispers, whispers 'home at last', home at last.
האתר פועל ברישיון אקו"ם
כל הזכויות שמורות 2022 ©