Lyric of the Week: THE HITCHHIKER’S SONG

Standing out here in the middle of nowhere trying to get a ride

Sticking my arm out and pointing my finger across the road so wide

It’s freezing cold, my legs are numb and my patience has just about died

I’m stuck out here half way between cities

With nothing I can do

They let me out at eleven o’clock, the second that radio beeped

I figured I might get home at twelve, take a shower and get a good night’s sleep

But now I’m here with my thoughts and questions and my feelings are running deep

It’s two a.m., people! Have mercy on the lonely soldier

—I belong to you

There’s no order! Everything is sudden and unexpected

Am I enjoying life? Is this my purpose here?

Debating in this world of decision and confusion

I can feel it, something big is drawing near

The days pass from one bus ride to the next, life is blowing away

Thinking about the future, should I do this or that … which way is up, anyway?

I’ll probably be standing here till I see the light of day

“But don’t worry my dear friend, Mom’s still cooking

—just for you”

I’m lost! Just not stable on this earth

I’m lost! Hanging from the air

I’m lost! In the middle of this forest

I’m lost! I’m going nowhere

At least at this rate I’ll never get anywhere

Standing out here on the shoulder of some two-lane blacktop

Standing out here just waiting, waiting for that one car to stop

All alone by the side of the road I feel like I’m gonna drop

C’mon, somebody, gimme a break! You’d be feeling the same thing

—if it was happening to you

The whole world can change its face and soul

In the time it takes for that ride to come

And all the time I’m standing here I can only wonder

How can people be so smart and yet so dumb

(Play that guitar and beat your drum)

Just waiting for a ride …

Lyrics Co-Written with Izzy Kieffer ©2025 The Hesh Inc./Reality Shock Music Inc.

It’s two a.m., people! Have mercy on the lonely soldier!

In the 1980s, before radical Islamic terrorists began masquerading as Orthodox Jews, IDF soldiers hitchhiking to and from their bases were a ubiquitous sight along all of the nation's roadsides, especially at main intersections and interchanges and before and after weekends. I had been observing this ever since I first traveled to Israel at the age of five, and it made an impression on me ever since then, especially coming from the USA where hitchhiking was illegal in most places and potentially dangerous just about everywhere. In 1982, after I switched high schools from my dinky backwater town to the big city, I began traveling regularly between the respective locales of Rehovot and Jerusalem. On one of these trips, somewhere along the two-lane blacktop between Ramla and the Ayalon Valley, an irresistible funk riff began playing in my head, and as I watched the hitchhiking soldiers by the side of the road as the bus made its way forward, the first idea for this song began to take shape.

I brought the idea with me to the high school dorm and mentioned it to my classmate Izzy Kieffer, with whom I had discovered a mutual love for classic soul, R&B, and blues music and decided to form a band together, and we began hashing the idea out while jamming. The lyrics didn't come right away, though, and the song languished while the band came together and began rehearsing and playing gigs.

High school ended and I took off to the good old USA for the summer, while Izzy stayed in Israel and began his military service. Almost right away, he became one of those hitchhikers we had been observing for all those years. When I came back to Israel, he showed me some lyrics he had begun writing as he hitchhiked home in the wee hours. I took the liberty of polishing the lyrics up and adding a few of my own lines, and the next opportunity we had, we jammed on it and had a song. But then I began my own military service not long afterward, and the musical ambitions we both harbored were sidelined. And by the time we finally got back together as civilians on the East Coast of the United States and formed another band together, this song remained in the books ... never to be recorded or performed. (I did, however, pilfer the irresistible funk riff and set it to a rap version of "Blinded by the Light," which I recorded and contributed to the producers of Light of Day: A Tribute to Bruce Springsteen ... it appears on the third disc of the extremely limited 3-CD edition.)