Well, you walk into a restaurant all strung out from the road
And you feel the eyes upon you as you're shaking off the cold
You pretend it doesn't bother you, but you just want to explode
Most times you can't hear 'em talk, other times you can
All the same old clichés, is it woman, is it man?
And you always seem outnumbered, so you don't dare make a stand
"Turn the Page" by Bob Seeger
Here I go, back on the road again,
Here I go, turning the page