Stood still on a highway
I saw a woman
By the side of the road
With a face that Ii knew like my own
Reflected in my window
Well she walked up to my quarterlight
And she bent down real slow
A fearful pressure paralysed me in my shadow
She said: 'son what are you doing here
My fear for you has turned me in my grave'
I said: 'mama I come to the valley of the rich
Myself to sell'
She said: 'son this is the road to hell'

On your journey cross the wilderness
From the desert to the well
You have strayed upon the motorway to hell