Where am I going out on this road?
I took a bus two days from Montana
Way down to Phoenix, then westward ho!
To the City of Angels, from there I don't know
Cause I have wandered this life alone
I took some chances, they didn't work out
So now I ponder these farmer's rows
The distant mountains, the endless miles
And my own face reflecting in the window all alone
And if I've rolled on so long that my heart has turned to stone
And when I make it back
Will I finally make it home?
Cause I have held on too long to the ways of weary woes
My bones are breaking, my heart is aching
For something that I've never known
But when I make it back
Can I finally make it home?