| Ah, to be up and leaving this town |
| Heading down an open road |
| To New Orleans, maybe Mexico |
| The whole world topsy turvy, you feel like you’re upside down |
| Everyday it’s a push and a shove, ah, people trying to get around |
| Working hard, breaking even’s good; to live you know you need to pay |
| Yeah, I’m half way gone; I feel I got to stay |
| But I don’t like living trapped this way |
| Get away, get away yeah |
| Ah, to be up and leaving this town, heading down an open road |
| With all that you own kinda thrown on the back seat |
| Thinking 'bout where you’re going, to New Orleans, maybe Mexico |
| If only you could pack up everything you love |
| And everyone who’d even been your friend |
| Keeping close to you the things that make you strong |
| And carry them with you around the bend |
| The fear to move and meet the new can keep you in line |
| To go you know that something stays behind |
| Separate the good and bad, 'cause you know the kind |
| The world is passing you by, but right down the line, down the line |
| Whoa, to New Orleans, maybe Mexico |
| I gotta get out of here, don’t you know, yeah baby |
| Gotta head on down the line, down the line, down the line |