It was a good choice and it was well made.
Pacific Avenue, mocha latte.
Under an awning in a light rain.
Yawning with each passing phrase.
Thank ya baby, for the big warm bed,
the burnt toast and the scrambled eggs.
Now, I’m headin’ down the highway on my
own two leggs. Don’t you forget my name.
From the top of the Rockies to the bottom of the sea,
I just put one foot in front of the other side of me.
Thank ya baby, for the big warm bed,
the home cooked food and the poem you read.
Now, I’m headin’ down the highway on my
own two leggs. Don’t you forget my name.
I know a song that’s got eight wheels,
a deisel engine and a nice refrain.
It runs on jazz, has a country feel and
it sounds like it comes from Spain.
Thank ya baby, for the big warm bed,
for rubbin’ my tummy and pattin’ my head.
Now, I’m headin’ down the highway on my
own two leggs. Don’t you forget my name.
A steady traveler gives a stern look
and then breaks with a smile.
Been this way for all my days.
Felt this way for all my miles.
Thank ya baby, for the big warm bed,
I must admit you had me pegged.
Now, I’m headin’ down the highway on my
own two leggs. Don’t you forget my name.