| Driving West out on I-40
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| On my way to taste some California wine
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| A broke down family flagged me down
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| Near the Arizona line
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| Their whole world was in a pickup
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| I guess it couldn’t pull the load
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| It was just our vacation
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| But to them it was desperation road
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| The lines on their faces
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| Told the story of the places that they’d been
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| Now their home is a highway
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| That never seems to end
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| Empty dreams and empty pockets
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| Sure can make a heavy load
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| To some of us it’s just a highway
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| But to others it’s desperation road
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| Their eyes had a sadness
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| From another place in time
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| A silent reminder that the grapes of wrath
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| Still make bitter wine
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| And it sure makes you wonder
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| 'Bout all the seeds our country sows
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| Which of us will be the next
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| To travel down desperation road
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| I helped them start their pickup
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| And watched them as they faded out of sight
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| Guess the last thing I remember
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| Is the faces of the children in my lights
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| That night in a motel room
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| I have a dream that made my blood run cold
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| I saw my own wife and family
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| Standing out on desperation road
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| And their eyes had a sadness
|
| From another place in time
|
| A silent reminder that the grapes of wrath
|
| Still make bitter wine
|
| And it sure makes you wonder
|
| 'Bout all the seeds our country sows
|
| Which of us will be the next
|
| To travel down desperation road
|
| Could be your own wife and family
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| Standing out on desperation road |