| It’s too dark
|
| to put the keys
|
| in my ignition,
|
| And the mornin' sun is yet
|
| to climb my hood ornament.
|
| But before too long I might
|
| see those flashing red lights
|
| Look out, mama,
|
| 'cause I’m comin' home tonight.
|
| Think I’ll
|
| roll another number
|
| for the road,
|
| I feel able to get under any load.
|
| Though my feet
|
| aren’t on the ground,
|
| I been standin' on the sound
|
| Of some open-hearted people
|
| goin' down.
|
| I’m not goin' back
|
| to Woodstock for a while,
|
| Though I long to hear
|
| that lonesome hippie smile.
|
| I’m a million miles away
|
| from that helicopter day
|
| No, I don’t believe
|
| I’ll be goin' back that way.
|
| Think I’ll
|
| roll another number
|
| for the road,
|
| I feel able to get under any load.
|
| Though my feet
|
| aren’t on the ground,
|
| I been standin' on the sound
|
| Of some open-hearted people
|
| goin' down. |