If it takes a lifetime I got too far from my raising, I forgot where I come from And the line between right and wrong was so fine Well I thought the highway loved me But she beat me like a drum My day will come, if it takes a lifetime I've been working

I got the key to the highway, Billed out and bound to go. I'm gonna leave here running; Walking is most too slow. I'm going back to the border Woman, where I'm better known. You know you haven't done nothing, Drove a good man away from home. Oh give me

How I still hang around here And there's nothing to hold me And be on his way Isn't it hard sometimes Isn't it lonely? A couple of young girls went Sailing down A1A Into the arms of Florida Sailing down a highway

Sometimes I wonder where will we go Lord don't take my whiskey, rock and roll I'm headed down a highway got a suitcase by my side Blue skies hangin' over my head I got five hundred miles to ride I'm goin' down to Memphis town to play a late night show I

'Cause when I leave this town I won't be back no more, no more I got the key to the highway, Billed out and bound to go I'm gonna leave here running people Because walking is most too slow I'm going back, to the border Before they put up the fence Where

When you knocked upon my door Down by the highway side Early this morning Early this morning, ooh And I said "hello Satan I believe it's time to go" Me and the Devil Was walkin' side-by-side Me and the Devil, ooh

Life pulled on like a limo under the highway after the prom Time ran down like a scoreboard on the last Hail Mary bomb My heart's still stuck at a stop light With you sittin' there next to me And the red light won't turn green Yeah, it won't turn green,

I just want to live while I'm alive (It's my life) It's my life I ain't gonna live forever My heart is like an open highway Like Frankie said I did it my way And it's now or never This ain't a song for the broken-hearted No silent prayer for the

A man appeared before Wells Fargo Wells Fargo's stage driver man Wearing long white linen And a dust flour sack over his head They call him Black Bart P08 The highway bandit poetry man Leaving his poem, disappeared Like a ghost on his own, all on his own

Some broken bridges in my time Praying for forgiveness Standing on the other side There are bridges on life?s highway But we never see them there Some cross troubled waters And some don't go nowhere Some you wouldn't step on If you're trying to save your