Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy, out in the back seat of my '60 Chevy. Workin' on mysteries without any clues, workin' on our night moves.
It was 22 years of work in a row, right up until 1987. Twenty-two years in a row-either on tour, writing an album, or recording an album. It wasn't until 1987 that I was able to take a breath.
If I want to work, I can. If I want to play golf, or ride my motorcycle, I can. But the rest of it is family. Sometimes you're not really needed by your family, but you're there. And my kids like to know I'm there.
Stood alone on a mountain top, starin' out at the Great Divide. I could go east, I could go west, it was all up to me to decide. Just then I saw a young hawk flyin' and my soul began to rise.