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White lines on the interstate at the age of seventeen
Under a winter sky the shade of grenadine
Well I never would have made it to the California line
Without an old freightliner driver and a cigarette that night
Maybe living free means that you're just wasting time
But you're never too old to get undone
My shoes shine on the dusty road to the State of Jefferson
Got my granddad's daddy's fiddle in the backseat with my bags
They say he quit the church to play them devil's rags
But he died of influenza back in 1921
And those old Dakota Indians took his sugar beets and run
Maybe living free means that you're just wasting time
But you're never too old to get undone
I'm getting high on the dusty road to the State of Jefferson
Heading down to meet a man I didn't love, that's true
In an old Oaktown apartment with a view
Well I never knew his name cause he used a pseudonym
And those Bay Bridge lights just kept me up wonderin' where the cars fell in
Maybe living free means that you're just wasting time
But you're never too far from where you're from
I'm on fire on the dusty road to the State of Jefferson