Stood still on a highway I saw a woman By the side of the road With a face that I knew like my own Reflected in my window Well she walked up to my quarterlight And she bent down real slow A fearful pressure paralysed me In my shadow She said "Son, what are you doing here? My fear for you has turned me in my grave" I said "Mama, I come to the valley of the rich Myself to sell" She said "Son, this is the road to Hell"
On your journey 'cross the wilderness >From the desert to the well You have strayed upon the motorway to Hell
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