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The Burning Hell

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The Burning Hell

The Road

the band was as blue as the melted joni mitchell cassette
on the dash of the van they had nicknamed regret
touring round the united kingdom
selling compact discs to the people of england
and wales and scotland, oh it's hard to be a rock band these days
people like to spend their evenings in different ways

that's just what the band was thinking
when the engine died and the lights started blinking
their lives flashed before them in a slideshow of backstages and bars
as the van slowed down amidst the oncoming cars
they pulled it over and they called for a tow
off the road

off the road, off the road, off the road.

appearing from the mist was a hidden oasis
aka the scotch corner service station
the drummer was relaxed but the singer was panicked
when out of the fog stepped a magic mechanic
he called himself stevie with an i and an e
he waved his wand and his wrench and said follow me

so the band drove north in stevie's wife's fiat panda
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just a slice of the glamour of being a band, uh huh,
they made the show because the show was important
the sky was as damp as the cheeks of an orphan
same rain as before just in a different postal code
but they all said at least we're back on the road

on the road, on the road, on the road

stevie made a midnight run right after the gig
drove back to scotch corner to fix their rig
the band panda'd their way the next day south
there was the wizard with a crinkly old smile on his mouth
the van sparkled in the yorkshire dawn
they turned to thank stevie but stevie was gone

the road is a lot like the cormac mcarthy book
less cannibalism but a similar look
there's nothing more post-apocalyptic
than a landscape of truck stops and rock critics
to paraphrase joni on the first track of that melted cassette
it's a lonely road and it's not over yet