Highway 29

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 should have stopped 
She slipped me her number, 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, 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 morning, washed my face in the sink 
We headed into the Sierra Madres 'cross the border line 
The winter sun shot through the black trees 
I told myself it was all something in her 
But as we drove I knew it was something in me 
Something that'd been comin' for a long long time 
And something that was here with me now 
On Highway 29 

The road was filled with broken glass and gasoline 
She wasn't sayin' nothin', it was just a dream 
The wind come silent through the windshield 
All I could see was snow, sky and pines 
I closed my eyes and I was runnin' 
I was runnin' then I was flyin'