Lyrics Road Ode - Loudon Wainwright III

Road Ode

(On the road again
Paying my back taxes, road again)
Well, you walk into the room and switch on the TV
And there’s Phil Donahue or Oprah Winfrey
And suddenly you don’t feel so lonely
Even though you’re out on the road
Open up that drawer and there’s that bible
God’s honest truth, but you’re not liable
To use it you prefer myth and libel
That’s 'cause you’re out on the road
There’s baby shampoo, no you’re not sloppy
Losing your toothbrush is your hobby
Lucky they sell that stuff in the lobby
Lucky that you’re out on the road
Out on the road, out on the road
You’re Willy Lowman, and you’re Tom Jode
Vladimir and Estragon, Kerouac, Ghengis Khan
Out on the road, out on the road
'Keep on going' is your creed and code
It’s a different way of life, it’s a whole other mode
Living out on the road
Well, you’re packin' 'em in so we did ok
But the people from the record company didn’t pay
So there’s no percentage, though it looks that way
Man, it’s funny when you’re out on the road
It’s your fault, you didn’t draw
There was a item in the paper that nobody saw
When business is bad then
There ought to be a law against you out on the road
There’s people to avoid, places to miss
Backstage access, who need this?
The club is a toilet when you gota' take a piss in the sink
When you’re out on the road
Out on the road, out on the road
You’re Willy Lowman, and you’re Tom Jode
Vladimir and Estragon, Kerouac, Ghengis Khan
Out on the road, out on the road
That’s where your wild oats where sowed
You start out a prince and you end up a toad
Living out on the road
Room service is a trick, rarely a treat
So you go for a bite that can’t be beat
But how many patty melts can one man eat
When he’s eating out on the road?
A cat eats a fish, a dog eats a bone
Out on the road, a man eats alone
Time to reflect and to atone for his sins out on the road
Runnin' through airports at 43 is ok for OJ but not for me
With a hernia, a bad back and a bum knee and a guitar out on the road
Out on the road, out on the road
You’re Willy Lowman, and you’re Tom Jode
Vladimir and Estragon, Kerouac, Ghengis Khan
Out on the road, out on the road
The flight’s been canceled, you should have known
The airport is your new abode
Living out on the road
(Let's go!)
When it’s time to come back to reality
You’re roadsick and you’re half crazy
So you fit right in quite naturally
Home from out on the road
Back to see family and friends
And to face the music and to make amends
But coming up for air, you can get the bends
In from out on the road
Open that bag, go on, expose it
Open that window, hold you nose
It’s eight weeks worth of dirty cloths
In from out on the road
Willie Nelson has a bus, and a sound man he can kick and cuss
And a road manager to make a fuss, Willie goes out on the road
A roadie caries his guitar, and in that bus is a VCR
Well Willie deserves it, he’s a big old star
Willie goes out on the road
So Willie goes out for weeks at a time
Makes a ton of money, it’s a life sublime
But for me it’s punishment and crime
Why do I go out on the road?
Out on the road, out on the road
I’m not Willy Nelson, I’m Tom Jode
Vladimir and Estragon, Kerouac, Ghengis Khan
Out on the road, out on the road
'Keep on going' is your creed and code
But if you keep on going, you’re going to explode
Living out on the road