Well I was born with an itch
One I could never quite scratch
The dust in my trail stays cold at my back
The urge to get up and leave
Find a different place to sleep
A town that knows not my name or my call
Well I have you to thank
And I have you to blame
For laying that six-string right in my hand
A gift and a curse
Though I don't know what's worse
To be normal or a wanderer like me
It's all the same
Gone, gone are the days
Well I keep checking my rearview
Missing mountains in plain view
Getting lost in myself, getting lost in my mind
Highways and heartache
No man should ever be this awake
Just point me in the direction fools travel by night
Well the scars on my body
Are a map I must carry
Guiding me forward through darkness and light
It's all the same
Gone, gone are the days