Another smoky venue and another long haired band.
Another storm of clapping hands `till the bus rolls again.
Alone in my hotel room with the TV on at night
just to kill the hurting silence after all that noise and light.

And with every mile and every town
and every curtain fallin? down
I start to feel more like a clown
while the roadies start to load.
Like a drifter on a tumbleweed
- addicted to the sound of speed
- already dead but on my feet
and still on the road

Cry for me - my misery - Savannah
I?m searching for a place to call my home.
Set me free - insanity - Savannah.
You?ll be by my side wherever I may roam
- Wherever I may roam.

I watch the world revolving
from my daily window seat.
The bus wheels keep on turning
`till it?s time for the backbeat.
So if you think this is glamorous
You better should think twice
`cause it?s all about the waiting
and it?s all about the lies.

And with every mile...