There's a Duster tryin' to change my tune He's pulling up fast on the right Rolling restlessly by a twenty-four hour moon

And a Wisconsin hiker with a cue-ball head He's wishing he was home in a Wiscosin bed But there's fifteen feet of snow in the East Colder then a welldigger's ass And it's colder than a welldigger's ass

Oceanside it ends the ride with San Clemente coming up Those Sunday desperadoes slip by and cruise with a dry back And the orange drive-in the neon billin' And the theatre's fillin' to the brim With slave girls and a hot spurn bucket full of sin

Metropolitan area with interchange and connections Fly-by-nights from Riverside And out of state plates running a little late

But the sailors jockey for the fast lane So 101 don't miss it There's rolling hills and concrete fields And the broken line's on your mind

The eights go east and the fives go north And the merging nexus back and forth You see your sign, cross the line, signalling with a blink

And the radio's gone off the air Gives you time to think And you hear the rumble As you fumble for a cigarette And blazing through this midnight jungle Remember someone that you met And one more block; the engine talks Whispers 'home at last' It whispers 'home at last' Whispers 'home at last' It whispers 'home at last' Whispers 'home at last'

And there are diamonds on my windshield And these tears from heaven Well I'm pulling into town on the Interstate I got me a steel train in the rain And the wind bites my cheek through the wing Late nights and freeway flying Always makes me sing It always makes me sing

Tom Waits - Diamonds on the windshield