Credits

AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Robert Jackson
Robert Jackson
Künstler:in
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Robert Jackson
Robert Jackson
Songwriter:in

Lyrics

I'm sorry it turned out this way,you left me and gone astray, I thought i was your only one,found out i was just your fun
It's all such a tragedy how she did it what she did to me,now I guess i'm a refugee I got burned burned love's third degree
Now I'm on the highway like I'm in some kind of race,everywhere I look I see her pretty face
in headlights the rear view and all around,on deserted highways chasing dreams that can't be found
Home from work is a secretary, back from slavin in the back city, 43 in mid life misery,
decides it's too late too late to be free
and she Hits the highway like she's in some kind of race
 looking back on all the pain and disgrace
It all flashes by she hears the sound
smashed steels ends the life of a dream that can't be found, can't be found yeah
Seen em win and I've seen them fall, keep your pride else they'll take it all
One thing they'll never take away, dreams stay with you till your dying day
and I'm on the highway like I'm in some kind of race,drivin back from all the pain and disgrace
In headlights that blind me all around
 on a deserted highway chasing dreams that can't be found
In the city streets chasing dreams that can't be found, take me home country roads to a dream that can't be found
in the singles bars chasing dreams that can't be found
on my old guitar chasing dreams that can't be found
Written by: Robert Frederick Jackson
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