Down The Highway

(álbum: The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan - 1963)

Well, I'm walking down the highway
With my suitcase in my hand
Yes, I'm walking down the highway
With my suitcase in my hand
Lord, I really miss my baby
She's in some far-of land

Well, your streets are getting empty
Lord your highway's getting filled
And your streets are getting empty
And your highway's getting filled
Well, the way I love that woman
I swear it's bound to get me killed

Well, I been gambling so long
Lord, I ain't got much more to lose
Yes, I been gambling so long
Lord, I ain't got much more to lose
Right now I'm having trouble
Please don't take away my highway shoes

Well, I'm bound to get lucky, baby
Or I'm bound to die trying
Yes, I'm a-bound to get lucky, baby
Lord, Lord I'm a-bound to die trying
Well, meet me in the middle of the ocean
And we'll leave this ol' highway behind

Well, the ocean took my baby
My baby stole my heart from me
Yes, the ocean took my baby
My baby took my heart from me
She packed it all up in a suitcase
Lord, she took it away to Italy, Italy

So, I'm walking down your highway
Just as far my poor eyes can see
Yes, I'm a-walking down your highway
Just as far my eyes can see
From the Golden Gate Bridge
All the way to the Statue of Liberty