Lyrics
kicking out the backstreet Jesus
rolling the dice, picking up the pieces
putting down the broom and going on strike
I don't know about love but I know what I like
I'd like to find a quiet place
with space to turn around in
and not the cities that I've been found inside of
I'd like to breathe some air
the road is open
and there's music of the trucks
humming down the highway
followed by the wind going my way
trains moving cross country
motorcycles moving from town to downtown
jet planes flying upside down
many cars, many drivers
I feel like the only survivor
rush hour for everyone but me,
the traffic lights and the setting sun
back on the road again
I'll go wherever the wind blows
back on the road again
