| She made for the highway
|
| He made for the gate
|
| He could’ve caught the rhythm
|
| Something made him hesitate
|
| He watched her flag a truck down
|
| To the county line
|
| The border she was crossin'
|
| Was only in her mind
|
| But there was something bitter in
|
| The flavor of the chase
|
| When you’ve been down and low before
|
| That darkened interstate
|
| When it’s going, going, gone
|
| Where love is muddy water
|
| And love is broken sails
|
| When love is double crossing
|
| Kisses and betrayals
|
| Baby, what is happening?
|
| Will you pass the glass?
|
| Pour me something special
|
| Something that will last
|
| My eyes are going under
|
| And my voice is growing thin
|
| It all seems too familiar
|
| Is it somewhere where I’ve been
|
| When it’s going, going, gone
|
| I’ve been living here too long
|
| Trying to find out why
|
| Too many unanswered questions
|
| And the truth just vaporized
|
| Shirley Temple was a puppet
|
| Will Rogers was a clown
|
| And now nobody cares to say
|
| What is going on
|
| Take all your ideals
|
| And throw them in the flood
|
| All your knives and needles
|
| Are on
|
| When it’s going, going, gone
|
| Paint on the cathedrals
|
| Is chipping and it’s cracked
|
| Where they once had kneeled
|
| They no longer look back
|
| The footprints in San Marco’s
|
| Like some broken-down corral
|
| Our prayers were like a rosary
|
| Into the Grand Canal
|
| I wonder how she wakes up
|
| And the light inside her room
|
| I wonder how she holds herself
|
| While staring at the moon
|
| When it’s going, going, gone |