Highway 29 (Live at King's Hall, Belfast, UK - 03/19/96)

作词 : Bruce Springsteen

作曲 : Bruce Springsteen

I slipped on her shoe

She was a perfect size seven

I said, "There's no smokin' in the store, ma'am"

She crossed her legs and then

We made some small talk

That's where it shoulda stopped

She slipped me her number

And I put it in my pocket

My hand slipped up her skirt

Everything slipped my mind

In that little roadhouse on Highway 29

It was a small town bank

It was a mess

Well, I had a gun

You know the rest

Money on the floorboards

My shirt was covered in blood

And she was cryin'

Her and me, we headed south on Highway 29

In a little desert motel

The air was hot and clean

I slept the sleep of the dead

I didn't dream

I woke in the mornin'

Washed my face in the sink

We headed into the Sierra Madre's

'Cross the border line

The winter sun shot through the black trees

I told myself it was all somethin' in her

But as we drove, I knew it was somethin' in me

Somethin' had been comin'

For a long, long time

Somethin' that was here with me now on Highway 29

The road was filled with broken gas and gasoline

Well, she was just a rag doll now

It was just a dream

Wind come silent through the windshield

All I could see was snow and sky and pines

I closed my eyes and I was runnin'

I was runnin', then I was flyin'