Travelin¡¯ now
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On the low highway
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Three thousand miles
|
To the Frisco Bay
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Cross the rivers wild
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And the lonesome plains
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Up the coast and down
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And back again
|
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Saw empty houses on a dead end street
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People linin up for something to eat
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And the ghost of America watching me
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Through the broken windows of the factories
|
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Pickin bones of a better day
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As I roll on the down the low highway
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Travelin¡¯ now
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On the low highway
|
By the yellow moon
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And the light of day
|
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From the snow white crown
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Of the mountain tall
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To the valley down
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Where the shadows fall
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Met a man with a rifle in his hand
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Been away to battle in a distant land
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Taught him to hate taught him to kill
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Now he¡¯s out on the road with a hole to fill
|
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Nobody knows the price he paid
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So he takes his toll on the low highway
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Travelin¡¯ now
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On the low highway
|
Windows down
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Listenin
|
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Wheels turnin round
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On the asphalt sayin
|
Every sound
|
Is a prophecy
|
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Heard and old man grumble and a young girl cry
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Brick wall crumble and the white dove fly
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And a cry for justice and a call for peace
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Force of reason in the roar of the beast
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And every mile is a prayer I prayed
|
As I roll down
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The low highway
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-----------------
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The Low Highway
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Steve Earle |