Bruce Springsteen - Highway 29 текст песни

I slipped on her shoe, she was a perfect size seven
I said Theres no smokin in the store maam.
She crossed her legs and then
We made some small talk thats where it should have stopped
She slipped me her 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 was hot and clean
I slept the sleep of the dead, I didnt dream
I woke in the morning, washed my face in the sink
We headed into the Sierra Madres cross the border line
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 thatd 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 wasnt sayin nothin, it was just a dream
The wind come silent through the windshield
All I could see was snow, sky and pines
I closed my eyes and I was runnin
I was runnin then I was flyin