Steve Earle — The Low Highway

[Verse] Traveling out on the low highway Three thousand miles to the Frisco Bay 'Cross the rivers wild and the lonesome plains Up the coast and down and back again Saw empty houses on a dead end street People lining up for something to eat And the ghost of America watching me Through the broken windows of the factories Naked bones of a better day As I rolled down the low highway [Verse] Traveling out on the low highway By the yellow moon and the light of day From the snow white crown on the mountain tall To the valley down where the shadows fall Met a man with a rifle in his hand Been away to battle in a distant land Taught him to hate, taught him to kill Now he’s out on the road with a hole to fill Nobody knows the price he paid So he takes his toll on the low highway [Verse] Traveling out on the low highway Windows down, listening Wheels turning round on the asphalt sing Every sound is a prophecy Heard an old man grumble, a young girl cry Brick wall crumble and the white dove fly And a cry for justice and a call for peace The voice of reason and the roar of the beast And every mile is a prayer I prayed As I rolled down the low highway