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

 [bad word] ]
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

So you walk into a restaurant, [bad word] 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.

 [bad word] 

Out there in the spotlight, you're 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 day's last cigarette, rememberin' what she said

 [bad word] ]