There's a woman in the verge
of the highway, I know her
She looks like me, like the face
next to me in the side window

She comes closer and bends
forward to my indicator
I break a sweat in the dark
behind my steering wheel

My boy, what are you doing here?
I turn over in my grave
of all my worries
about you

Mama, I'm going to work hard
and then I'll get rich
Oh boy, don't you know?
This is the road to hell

On your journey through barren poverty
from the desert to the source
you got lost, you turned off
to hell