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
|
Well I’m standing by the river
|
But the water doesn’t flow
|
It boils with every poison you can think of
|
And I’m underneath the streetlight
|
But the light of joy I know
|
Scared beyond belief way down in the shadows
|
And the perverted fear of violence
|
Chokes the smile on every face
|
And common sense is ringing out the bell
|
This ain’t no technological breakdown
|
Oh no, this is the road to hell
|
And all the roads jam up with credit
|
And there’s nothing you can do
|
It’s all just bits of paper flying away from you
|
Oh look out world, take a good look what comes down here
|
You must learn this lesson fast and learn it well
|
This ain’t no upwardly mobile freeway
|
Oh no, this is the road
|
Said this is the road
|
This is the road to hell |