I remember to this day, 
the bright red Georgia clay, 
how it stuck to the tires after the summer rain . . . 
Will-power made that ol' car go, 
a woman's mind told me that it's so, 
Oh! how I wish we were back on the road again . . . 
  
Me an' you an' a dog named Boo, 
travelin' and livin' off the land . . . 
Me an' you an' a dog named Boo, 
How I loved bein' a free man . . . 
  
I can still recall, 
the wheat fields of St. Paul, 
and the mornin' we got caught robbin' from an old hen . . . 
Old MacDonald, he made us work, 
but then he paid us for what it was worth, 
another tank of gas an' back on the road again . . . 
  
< repeat chorus > 
  
Well, I'll never forget that day, 
we motored stately into Big L.A. 
the lights of the city put settling-down in my brain . . . 
Though it's only a month or so, 
that ol' car is a buggin' us to go, 
you gotta get away, 
get back on the road again . . . 
  
< repeat chorus > 
< repeat chorus >