Jeff Davis was no county line to my daddy
more like a wall he could not see beyond.
yeah, to me that farm was just a jail
and the day I hit sixteen i bailed-
shook off the Georgia dust and i was gone
to the wild unknown, where no light to guide me shone

and the wheels had ideas of their own

he makes 'joying the ride at a joplin pawnshop
and the hardcore band?s somewhere around santa fe
a club to wreck, a town to burn, not a cent to waste
no rock unturned, days like those
you?ve got to throw away.

chorus:
wire to the wheel and bound to no one
fire up the engine, down the fences go
we dance about the blacktop
the back route, there?s always a way out
where there?s a road. where there?s a road.

that portland week i can?t seem to remember
those houston nights that just won?t quit my mind
yeah, checkin? seven doors or ten
better rooms just up the bend
and a thousand more left somewhere behind

chorus:
wired to the wheel and bound to no one
fire up the engine, down the fences go
free that's about the blacktop
the back route, there?s always a way out
where there?s a road. where there?s a road.

to the last free man, ain?t no mystery can?t stand
when the key?s right there in your hand.

so amy please don?t make this any harder.
this tramp you?ve lost, that?s sure no cause to cry
no flesh and blood can buy my hand
you can ask a sad old georgia man
since i?ve been gone. it?s been one long goodbye.