Stood still on a highway I saw a woman By the side of the road With a face that I knew like my own Reflected in my window Well she walked up to my quarterlight And she bent down real slow A fearful pressure paralysed me In my shadow She said "Son, what are you doing here? My fear for you has turned me in my grave" I said "Mama, I come to the valley of the rich Myself to sell" She said "Son, this is the road to Hell"
On your journey 'cross the wilderness From the desert to the well You have strayed upon the motorway to Hell