He left Boston in December for New Mexico  Determined to forget all of the faces he’d known  A little lonesome and a world of troubled mind    With a bed roll on his shoulder and a banjo on his knee  He would hitch a ride with truckers  He believed them to be free  Eighteen-wheelers roll a little further down the line    He did not meet a girl in Richmond nor in old San Antone  His vision of the Southwest would be realized alone  Alone to wonder  how his life had gone thus far    As he walked along the highway  He felt a power from inside  He found a miracle of living  In having nothing left to hide    He walked Carlsbad to White Sands  For forty days and nights  But it only took ten minutes for that man to realize:  Lord, it’s lonesome everywhere    Now he’s living back in Boston teaching English in high school  Glad to have bi-weekly wages  Glad the kids all think he’s cool  He’s a man who has learned from where he’s been    He keeps a bottle full of white sand on his table down the hall  And a worn map of New Mexico thumb-tacked on the wall  Oh, you never know  He may need to go again    As he walks along the hallway  He feels that power swell up from inside  And finds a miracle of living  In having nothing left to hide    Oh, it’s a miracle    these lyrics are submitted by burkul