The High Road

The high road is closed for repairs
 And nobody cares about songs anymore
 My enemies are passing me by
 And I don't know that I could keep up anyway
 The high road is wearing me down
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 It all comes from out of nowhere
 I'm losing the hat on top of my head
 I'm losing sight, I'm losing the fight
 To a flash in the pan, to a thief in the night
 The high road is wearing me down
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 The stage is like a window to
 The kitchen from the dining room
 And I'm sweating here underneath the lights
 But serve me a big meal
 And if I'm not what they had in mind
 They'll send me back and scape me off the plate
 But I go out there everyday
 Pretending it's the other way around
 And I've got the meaning
 From the palm of my hand