Lyrics

He spends all his time washing and waxing
His getaway car on which the banks holds a note
Armor all all over everything
He dreams all time of just getting up and going
His neighborhood is falling to pieces
His landlords got him by the throat
Sometimes there's heat but no hot water
He slept last night in his winter coat
He dreams of wide open road
Of heading somewhere that it doesn't get cold
He dreams of wide open road
In his getaway car he gets up and goes
He's shining his wheels like its the finest silver
He check the sky wondering if it will rain
Picks up the paper only to find
That his number didn't come up again
So tommorrow he'll be down at the scrap yard
Weighing out a poor mans gold
There's one thing he feels like he's getting
He feels like he's getting old
And he dreams of wide open roads
No traffic lights and no tolls
He dreams of wide open road
In his getaway car he gets up and goes
Some times he heads out towards the country
On his way back home he wonders why he didn't keep going
Fifty one more monthly payments to the bank that holds the note
But if there's one thing he knows for certain the day will come when he keeps going
Even if his number don't come in that won't keep him from the road
He dreams of wide open road
Of heading somwhere that it doesn't get cold
He dreams of wide open road
He's got Coltrane playing on his tape deck radio ...