You’re washed up but dressed up and on your way
You must feel pretty safe
With all your records around you
And at stops would you call me up to say
I guessed the many ways that each new state would depress you
And if your luck is made when you’re born, not earned, that’s rotten for you
All your plans end on the interstate
But start up in each new place I was too tough to take noke of
And they say, home is the only place
That’s more fun when you’re away
Than these long streets that we sleep down
As long as you stay on the move
Will you think it’s getting better?