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Sitting alone on my hotel |
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Looking in the mirror wondering, "well, |
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After all this time you never thought you'd still be out on the road?" |
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Like a gypsy I was born to roam |
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Like a wanderer with no fixed abode |
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I think about the friends I've left behind on the road |
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Well, the road's been rocky along the way |
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It's been a long, hard haul on the motorway |
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But if it gets too smooth it's time to call it a day |
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(On the road) |
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The bed and breakfasts and the greasy spoons |
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(The road) |
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The loser bars and the noisy rooms |
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(The road) |
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The casualties who did too many lines |
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(The road) |
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Wasted talent on women and wine |
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I think of all the friends I've left behind |
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Whenever it's time to get back out on the road |
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Started playing blues in a coffee bar |
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I took a trip down Charing Cross Road |
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With my imitation Gretsch guitar |
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And my head full of songs and my eyes full of stars |
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I saw a band called the Rolling Stones |
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I thought, "that's it, I'll get a band, |
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I'm leaving home, I'm out on the road." |
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The motorways all over this land |
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(The road) |
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Far away places like Wigan and Birmingham |
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(The road) |
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Didn't have no name, didn't have any fans |
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(The road) |
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Didn't have no money so we slept in the van |
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All those early gigs we ever played |
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Sometimes we were lucky if we even got paid |
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On the road |
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Pete played on the bass guitar |
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Liked to get around, mixing with all the stars |
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But Mrs. Avory's child was all fingers and thumbs |
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But solid as a rock, setting time on the drums |
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While Dave the Rave hit the rock 'n' roll riffs |
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Yours truly strummed away with a slightly limp wrist |
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On the road |
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Everyday is when I can't get used to it |
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Everyday is when I can't get away |
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Another day, another freeway to face |
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That's the road |
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Well, life is a road, it's a motorway |
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And the road gets rocky along the way |
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But if it gets too smooth it's time to call it a day |
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(On the road) |
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Jimi Hendrix, The Who, the Led Zeppelin and Free |
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They took the road so it's alright by me |
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Some are survivors, some are debris |
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If you play in a band that's the road that you take |
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Living in it, eating in it, sleeping in it |
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You wake up in the morning, what do you see? |
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The road |
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Life is a road, it's a motorway |
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Lost a lot of good friends along the way |
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All the families and homes that I've left behind |
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To the wives and the lovers and friends who had their time |
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I say, "you take your road and I'll take mine." |
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(You take your road and I'll take mine) |
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You take your road and I'll take mine |
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(You take your road and I'll take mine) |
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Life is a road, it's a motorway |
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And the road gets rocky along the way |
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But if it gets too smooth it's time to call it a day |
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(On the road) |
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Observed all the various phases from |
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Flower power, heavy metal and acid rock |
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And still all the critics keep saying |
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"Are they still around? When they gonna stop?" |
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It's just the dedicated followers of fashion who like putting down |
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All the well respected men who came dancing and are still on the road |
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Sometime I get suicidal |
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Now everyone is a rival |
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Different cars, different bars and hotels |
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Corporations, big business and egos |
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When it all gets too bad I think back |
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When we were all each other had |
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When we started out on the road |
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And there's gas in my tank and I've still got a way to go |
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Another hotel, it's time to check out soon |
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As I look around the room |
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I think of all the friends I've left behind |
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On the road |
