|
Drivin’ north on Highway Nineteen, just tryin’ to
stay awake;
was nothin’ on the radio ‘cept jazz, for goodness’
sake;
my coffee ran out miles ago; another hour till the stop;
my wheels began to sing that song, my eyes began to drop.
Ev’rybody’s in the fast lane headed south;
ev’rybody’s in the fast lane headed south;
planes and trains and automobiles; ev’rything with wings
or wheels;
ev’rybody’s in the fast lane headed south.
I reached into my pocket and felt around inside;
sure that I had got some gum would keep my eyelids wide;
was nothin’ there so, in despair, I wound my window down;
then in the haze I saw some trucks; my heart began to pound.
Ev’rybody’s in the fast lane headed south;
ev’rybody’s in the fast lane headed south;
planes and trains and automobiles; ev’rything with wings
or wheels;
ev’rybody’s in the fast lane headed south.
I don’t know why ev’ryone is goin’ to Mexico;
maybe they all think that it’s the coolest place to go;
I’ll keep on heading up Nineteen to the place where I am
bound;
when I arrive, get the place to myself; be nobody else around.
Ev’rybody’s in the fast lane
headed south;
ev’rybody’s in the fast lane headed south;
planes and trains and automobiles; ev’rything with wings
or wheels;
ev’rybody’s in the fast lane headed south.
(©2004
Stewart Bowman)
|
