From the recording Angel of the Open Road

Josh liked this song on the road


Angel of the Open Road
I left my old car
burning on the highway out of Mobile.
Cops rode me to the off-ramp.
I sat down beneath the telephone booth
at the all night service station.
Houston was a long way off.
No reason for Houston.
Just seemed like some place to go
when my old man kicked me out.
I was just 20 and scared,
hadn’t eaten since I passed LaGrange.
If you gave me a dollar for my hope,
I’d have to give you 90 cents in change.
Then up walked an angel of the open road.
She said I looked like
some kind of road-kill cat.
I said, “Mam, I can’t argue with that.”
I stood up and I scraped my back
on the corner of the telephone booth.
We walked across the service station lot
to her room at the Motel 6.
The t.v. was on, and I took a long shower.
When I got out she was shuffling a deck of cards.
She said, “Hey look what I found
in the drawer where the Bible’s supposed to be.
Boy, sit your skinny ass down
and turn down that damn t.v.”
And I learned to play hearts
with an angel of the open road.
She got me to Houston—
said it was on her way. 
I asked her where she was going
and she said, “Not Houston”.   
But I remember standing there
under the “Help Wanted” sign
at Houston Door and Steel,
and I watched her turn around
and go back like we came.
I’m not gonna say that she
taught me to be a man.
That’s a cliché and a lie,
like Santa Clause and Disneyland.
But I came to believe
in angels of the open road.
Then I went on with my life
and later put myself through school.
Now I got two kids and a wife,
two cars and an above ground pool.
But I can be caught in traffic now,
or standing at some church picnic
wishing I was anyplace else,
wishing I was just a hole in the crowd.
And I see her standing there.
Tying back her long black hair.
And again it’s just me,
and that angel of the open road.
Again it’s just me,
and that angel of the open road.