Daily Lyric: THE MIDNIGHT RAMBLER

It’s three in the morning and I-80 is deserted and dark

The only sound I hear is the relative wind whipping round my car

My legs are tired, my knees are throbbing, and the rest of me just can’t feel

The scars I carry from the past are too deep to heal

The world is too small and my troubles try to follow me wherever I go

Sometimes I feel like giving it all up and disappearing down the road

I’ve lived all my life in Nowhere, brought up to be a loser

I’m running away from the past and I don’t want to know the future

I’m the Midnight Rambler

It’s a cruel world and I don’t want any part of it

It’s a mean life and I wanna get away from what started it

I’ve never ever felt satisfied and I’ve never gotten my share

This place is Nowhere, and it’s the Universal Nowhere

The heroes are condemned to roam the strip forever, seeking what can’t be found

The good people are resigned to suffering without a sound

The gamblers and the chance takers end up empty handed

It’s dog eat dog, man eat man, and I decided long ago I can’t stand it

I’m the Midnight Rambler

Some people drown their troubles in alcohol

Others use drugs to try and forget it all

Me, I just pack up whatever it is I have left

And head out west where I can start a new life for myself

In the wee wee hours you see the trees and rocks move

And the way the miles slip by is anything but smooth

The night is creeping slowly but surely towards dawn

And by the sun comes up I’ll be gone, gone, gone

I’m the Midnight Rambler

©2024 The Hesh Inc.

It’s three in the morning and I-80 is deserted and dark

This, needless to say, is NOT the Rolling Stones song. In fact, I hadn't heard or heard of that song at the time that I wrote this. I was in the first half of my Israeli army service at the time (mid-1980s) and was very much under the spell of Bruce Springsteen at his most melancholy. One night, Israel Defense Forces Radio held an overnight Springsteen marathon, including many bootlegs, and I caught some of it while on guard duty at about two in the morning. I listened to the music and imagined the character described in my lyrics, and by the time my shift was over, I had a song. Never recorded or performed; it was just one of those I wrote before moving on to the next one in the lyric notebook I carried with me everywhere.