It's early morning on I-19.

I ain't got much for company,

A pick-up truck, a brown Volvo,

And a couple of jokers on the radio.


I wish that it could stay like this,

But soon I'll have to put up with

The whole world and his Uncle Joe

Cluttering up my freedom road.


When I was a boy I'd fantasize

About the freedom road. I'd drive

A thousand miles before sundown,

Father a child in every town.


But a hundred thousand miles have passed

Between me and iconoclastic images

Of the freedom road.

I wanna shed this heavy load.


Well I've seen the power of the lightning storm,

I've seen the endless ears of corn,

I've seen the lakes at the break of day,

And that shit takes my breath away.


But if I were to even start

To tell them how it melts my heart,

Never more would my truck-stop friends

Look me in the eye again.


It's early morning on I-19,

A dreamer's waking from his dream,

A driver who has lost his way

Parks up his rig and walks away.