The High Road

The high road is closed for repairs And nobody cares about songs anymore My enemies are passing me by And I don't know that I could keep up anyway The high road is wearing me down It all comes from out of nowhere I'm losing the hat on top of my head I'm losing sight, I'm losing the fight To a flash in the pan, to a thief in the night The high road is wearing me down The stage is like a window to The kitchen from the dining room And I'm sweating here underneath the lights But serve me a big meal And if I'm not what they had in mind They'll send me back and scape me off the plate But I go out there everyday Pretending it's the other way around And I've got the meaning From the palm of my hand