Highway 29 - Bruce Springsteen

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'

Yea, I was runnin', then I was flyin'