When I was younger
I was torn and frayed and lonely
Knew I had to move
Gotta hit the road

Someday I would move and hide out
Where no one would ever catch me
Cuz those're bound to move
Gotta hit the road

Called for the hobo but he was
No where to be found
He must be lost down
On Straylin Street

Spent all my time chasing
No where getting higher
Found out I was no where
And it hit me hard

Thought I'd jump a train
And head out for Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
But the brakeman passed me by
Cuz he was blind

Called for the brakeman but he was
No where to be found
He must be lost down
On Straylin Street

So can't you help, help, help a man like me
I said, can't you help, help, help a man like me
Or are you lost down
On Straylin Street?

I hit the road with my bag full of my laundry
I carried my book in my right hand
Kerouac got his words that reach for the young
And the ramble hearted

'Cuz those're bound to move
Gotta hit the road

Called for the writer but he was
No where to be found
He must be lost down
On Straylin Street

See also:
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