Sitting alone on my hotel
Looking in the mirror wondering, "well,
After all this time you never thought you'd still be out on the road?"
Like a gypsy I was born to roam
Like a wanderer with no fixed abode
I think about the friends I've left behind on the road
Well, the road's been rocky along the way
It's been a long, hard haul on the motorway
But if it gets too smooth it's time to call it a day
(On the road)
The bed and breakfasts and the greasy spoons
(The road)
The loser bars and the noisy rooms
(The road)
The casualties who did too many lines
(The road)
Wasted talent on women and wine
I think of all the friends I've left behind
Whenever it's time to get back out on the road
Started playing blues in a coffee bar
I took a trip down Charing Cross Road
With my imitation Gretsch guitar
And my head full of songs and my eyes full of stars
I saw a band called the Rolling Stones
I thought, "that's it, I'll get a band,
I'm leaving home, I'm out on the road."
The motorways all over this land
(The road)
Far away places like Wigan and Birmingham
(The road)
Didn't have no name, didn't have any fans
(The road)
Didn't have no money so we slept in the van
All those early gigs we ever played
Sometimes we were lucky if we even got paid
On the road
Pete played on the bass guitar
Liked to get around, mixing with all the stars
But Mrs. Avory's child was all fingers and thumbs
But solid as a rock, setting time on the drums
While Dave the Rave hit the rock 'n' roll riffs
Yours truly strummed away with a slightly limp wrist
On the road
Everyday is when I can't get used to it
Everyday is when I can't get away
Another day, another freeway to face
That's the road
Well, life is a road, it's a motorway
And the road gets rocky along the
