Highway To Spain - Magna Carta

Two drifters running free heading for the sun

rolling down a highway to Spain

we were almost finished, before we had begun

and nothing, nothing would be the same

From Rouen down to Toulouse that old transit saw us well

rolling through the vineyards on the hill

bread and cheese in a sleepy town heading out as the sun went down

counting up the money for a small hotel

Down that highway to Spain

strangers to the sun

who knows when we’ll be back again

on that highway to Spain

the race is on again, my friend

South of Saragossa, aiming for Madrid

where mirages danced fandangos on the plain

we ran out of money, I can’t remember just what we did

but I recall we got there just the same

Down that highway to Spain

strangers to the sun

who knows when we’ll be back again

on that highway to Spain

the race is on again, my friend