Yeah, his guitar slung across his back
His dusty boots is his Cadillac
Flamin’ hair just a blowin’ in the wind
Ain’t seen a bed in so long it’s a sin
He left home when he was seventeen
The rest of the world he had longed to see
But everybody knows the Boss
A rolling stone who gathers no moss
But you’d probably call him a tramp
But it goes a little deeper than that
He’s a highway chile, yeah
Now some people say he had a girl back home