Part Of The Load

Got here this morning, leaving on Saturday. Two nights in Boston and we're out on the Road again. Find yourself stays with friends that you made. Rolling the highways, living the way we do. Not some traveling man, but a man half of The gigs we show. Big stone and a glass don't seem like time To go. We're out on the road, just one Road. On the Road. On the road. On the road. On the road. Hey. On the road. Whoa. Uh-huh. Hey. Calling for dinner and home's four thousand miles Away. Write to your lady, not knowing quite just What to say. You only know you never asked Her To wait. No, no, no, no. Hey. Houston, Texas, Two hundred miles or so. Last stop for supper with just one tuna fish To go. No time to smile, no time to Say, "What's for to go?" You're out on the road, On the road.