(Richard Thompson) 



If I ever get out of these shoes 

And I shrug off a skin or two 

I'll come looking in the wasted places 

Beat-up, last ditch rendezvous 



If it had been some other place 

Some other time to find me 

If I had been in my right mind 

Not looking for ghosts behind me 



Then I'd hold you with my fingers burning 

Kiss your little tears of yearning 

But sometimes there's no turning 

Take Care The Road You Choose 



If I ever get out of my mind 

Guillotine myself to stop me dreaming 

And let my heart go where it will 

Without those other voices screaming 



Some take the high, some take the low 

Some take the straight and narrow 

Some still standing at the crossroads 

Some fly like an arrow 



With my radar I'll find you, darling 

No regrets to blind you, darling 

And never look behind 

Take Care The Road You Choose