The Game
June 1977, Song #6
Laughing across the fields and
Through summer’s old leaves
And finally up my sleeves,
The bitter wind mocks me and
Pulls all my ill concealed destinies
Out of my pocket and into the long winter night
But I clutch what dreams I have left
With desperate eyes and pull down my hat
And hold to the lies
Out on the road, out on the road, out on the road
Just another child without a name
Running away, running away, running away
Just another pawn playing the game
I’m still awake when the neon dies
In all the pubs and cafes
I’m traveling by rule of thumb at night
So I can sleep through the days
It’s not that I think I’ll be looked for
Or followed or chased or threatened
Or even missed,
It’s just that it’s part of the game
And it must be done right
If you’re gonna play at all
So just to play fair I will tell you
That no one knows and no one will find out
Why I’m still on the road.
Out on the road, out on the road, out on the road
Just another child without a home
Running away, running away, running away
Just another wanderer out on the roam
So come on and give me a ride
Open the door on the passenger side
I won’t pretend to know you
I won’t even give you a name
I’m just a face and a thank you
And you’re just part of the game
© Mark Shepard 1977-2008. All rights reserved.