| Lyrics: | by Bob Dylan
Well, I'm walkin' down the highway
With my suitcase in my
hand.
Yes, I'm walkin' down the highway
With my suitcase in my hand.
Lord, I really
miss my baby,
She's in some far-off land.
Well, your streets are gettin'
empty,
Lord, your highway's gettin' filled.
And your streets are gettin' empty
And
your highway's gettin' filled.
Well, the way I love that woman,
I swear it's bound to get
me killed.
Well, I been gamblin' so long,
Lord, I ain't got much more to
lose.
Yes, I been gamblin' so long,
Lord, I ain't got much more to lose.
Right now
I'm havin' trouble,
Please don't take away my highway shoes.
Well, I'm bound to get
lucky, baby,
Or I'm bound to die tryin'.
Yes, I'm a-bound to get lucky, baby,
Lord,
Lord I'm a-bound to die tryin'.
Well, meet me in the middle of the ocean
And we'll leave
this ol' highway behind.
Well, the ocean took my baby,
My baby stole my heart from
me.
Yes, the ocean took my baby,
My baby took my heart from me.
She packed it all up
in a suitcase,
Lord, she took it away to Italy, Italy.
So, I'm a-walkin' down your
highway
Just as far as my poor eyes can see.
Yes, I'm a-walkin' down your
highway
Just as far as my eyes can see.
From the Golden Gate Bridge
All the way to
the Statue of Liberty |
