I slipped on her shoe; she was a perfect size seven.
I said, "There's no smoking 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 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 crying
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 didn't 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 that had been coming 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 saying nothing, it was just a dream
The wind come silent through the windshield
All I could see was snow and sky and pine
I closed my eyes and I was running
Yeah, I was running, then I was flying