Moving Eight Miles A Minute For Months

Out Past The Cornfields Where The Woods Got Heavy, Out In The Back Seat Of My '60 Chevy. Workin' On Mysteries Without Any Clues, Workin' On Our Night Moves.

She Gave Me A False Address, Took Off With My American Express, Sunspot Baby, Sure Had Me Way Out Guessed.

Up With The Sun. Gone With The Wind.

I Guess I Lost My Way, There Were So Many Roads. I Was Living To Run, And Running To Live, Never Worried About Paying Or Even How Much I Owed.

I Want To Be Sure I Can Deliver What People Expect To Hear. I Just Don't Know If I Can Physically Do It. Or If I Should.