| 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 a 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 it was hot and clean
l 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 borderline
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 had 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 and sky and pines
i closed my eyes and i was runnin',
i was runnin' then i was flyin'
Msa
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