Migrant Bird

Another town, another stage
Another crowd, another bar
Another headache in the morning
And the smell of cigarettes
Another day spent in the car

Another seven hundred miles
White lines driving you insane
Pit stop, coffee, burger, French fries
It sucks but babe I don't complain

Cheap motels and dirty rooms
Free local calls and HBO
Slice of toast and thin café
three hundred miles it's time to go

Lawyer, tile guy, doctor, farmer
None of this I wanna be
Driven down a dusty highway
Is what I need for feeling free

If I could fly like a bird
I'd fly a million miles all the way to you
To hold you in my arms like so many times before
But I'm on the road for a long time
Every night we play in another town
And every single night, the last whiskey takes me home

I've been in every little town
I played in every little bar
Call me a fool, but all I need
Is melodies and my guitar

This little song is just for you
With easy words I try to say
That you are always on my mind
Even if I'm far away