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Stood still on a highwayI saw a womanBy the side of the roadWith a face that I knew like my ownReflected in my windowWell she walked up to my quarterlightAnd she bent down real slowA fearful pressure paralysed meIn my shadowShe said "Son, what are you doing here?My fear for you has turned me in my grave"I said "Mama, I come to the valley of the richMyself to sell"She said "Son, this is the road to Hell"On your journey 'cross the wilderness>From the desert to the wellYou have strayed upon the motorway to Hell
Stood still on a highwayI saw a womanBy the side of the roadWith a face that I knew like my ownReflected in my windowWell she walked up to my quarterlightAnd she bent down real slowA fearful pressure paralysed meIn my shadowShe said "Son, what are you doing here?My fear for you has turned me in my grave"I said "Mama, I come to the valley of the richMyself to sell"She said "Son, this is the road to Hell"On your journey 'cross the wilderness>From the desert to the wellYou have strayed upon the motorway to Hell