Free and On the Road
Its 3ockock in the morning and I've got the bus stop blues. Trying to write a song but can't seem to find a tune. The drivers says it's time to go but I can't put down the song, so I take it with me on the bus and I write it on the road
It started out as a melody so soft and sweet and fine but some how the rhythm of the bus has speeded up the time. I feel the wheels rumbling. The night is dark and cold. Just another lonely minstrel, free and on the road.
The stranger up in front of me is asleep and kind of old. The lady sitting next to me gives a stare that is so cold. My hairs' unbrushed sense morning and my clothes have all been well worn. Just the price a minstrel pays to be free and on the road
I reach up for my guitar just to help put down the song. But the driver says "Boy put that thing away we're at your stop in town". And late at night I go home, to my bed and I'm all alone. Just another lonely minstrel free and on the road. Free and on the road. You see I'm free and on the road.
Copyright 1982 Jim Moffatt