face to the highway

i'm going away

i'm going away

the cradle wants a baby

kitchen wants a pan

the heart wants a certain kind of lover if it can

ocean wants a sailor

gun wants a hand

money wants a spender

and the road wants a man

i turned my face to the highway

and i turn my back on you

devil wants a sinner

sky wants a bird

table wants the dinner

lips want a word

glass wants the wine

fist wants to hurt

clock wants the time

and the shovel wants to work

i turned my face to the highway

and i turn my back on you

i'm going away

i'm going away

coal wants a miner

soldier takes a stand

the walls of the prison

want a solitary man

the window wants a curtain

the plow wants the land

diamond ring wants to

fit upon the finger

of her hand

i turned my face to the highway

and i turned my back on you

i'm going away

i'm going away

i'm going away