on
a
long
and
lonesome
highway
east
of
Omaha
you
can
listen
to
the
engines,
moanin'
out
as
one
long
song
you
can
think
about
the
woman,
or
the
girl
you
knew
the
night
before
but
your
thoughts
will
soon
be
wandering
the
way
they
always
do
when
you're
riding
sixteen
hours
and
there's
nothing
much
to
do
you
don't
feel
much
like
ridin',
you
just
wish
the
trip
was
through
but
here
I
am,
on
the
road
again
here
I
am,
up
on
the
stage
here
I
go,
playing
the
star
again
there
I
go,
turn
the
page
you
walk
into
a
restaurant,
strung
out
from
the
road
and
you
feel
the
eyes
upon
you,
as
you're
shaking
off
the
cold
you
pretend
it
doesn't
bother
you,
but
you
just
want
to
explode
and
most
times
you
can
hear
'em
talk,
other
times
you
can't
all
the
same
'ole
cliches:
is
that
a
woman
or
is
that
a
man?
and
you
always
seem
outnumbered,
you
dare
not
make
a
stand,
make
your
stand.
out
there
in
the
spotlight,
your
a
million
miles
away
every
ounce
of
energy,
you
try
to
give
away
and
the
sweat
pours
from
your
body,
like
the
music
that
you
play
later
in
the
evening,
as
you
lie
awake
in
bed
with
the
echoes
of
the
amplifiers,
ringin'
in
your
head
you
smoke
the
days
last
cigarette,
rememberin'
what
she
said