I’m going away

I’m going away

The cradle wants a baby

Kitchen wants a pan

The heart wants a certain kind of lover if it can

Ocean wants a sailor

Gun wants a hand

money wants a spender

And the road wants a man

I turned my face to the highway

And I turn my back on you

Devil wants a sinner

Sky wants a bird

Table wants the dinner

Lips want a word

Glass wants the wine

Fist wants to hurt

Clock wants the time

And the shovel wants to work

I turned my face to the highway

And I turn my back on you

I’m going away

I’m going away

Coal wants a miner

Soldier takes a stand

The walls of the prison

Want a solitary man

The window wants a curtain

The plow wants the land

Diamond ring wants to

Fit upon the finger

Of her hand

I turned my face to the highway

And I turned my back on you

I’m going away

I’m going away

I’m going away