Stood still on a highway
   I saw a woman
   By the side of the road
   With a face that I knew like my own
   Reflected in my window
   Well she walked up to my quarterlight
   And she bent down real slow
   A fearful pressure paralysed me
   In my shadow
   She said "Son, what are you doing here?
   My fear for you has turned me in my grave"
   I said "Mama, I come to the valley of the rich
   Myself to sell"
   She said "Son, this is the road to hell"
  
   On your journey 'cross the wilderness
   From the desert to the well
   You have strayed upon the motorway to hell