text: I slipped on her shoe, she was a perfect size seven
  I said Theres no smoking in the store maam.
  She crossed her legs and then
  We made some small talk thats where it should have stopped
  She slipped me her number, I put it in my pocket
  My hand slipped up her skirt, everything slipped my mind
  In that little roadhouse
  On Highway 29
  It was a small town bank it was a mess
  Well, I had a gun you know the rest
  Money on the floorboards, shirt was covered in blood
  And she was crying, her and me we headed south
  On Highway 29
  In a little desert motel the air was hot and clean
  I slept the sleep of the dead, I didnt dream
  I woke in the morning, washed my face in the sink
  We headed into the Sierra Madres across the border line
  The winter sun shot through the black trees
  I told myself it was all something in her
  But as we drove I knew it was something in me
  Something that had been coming for a long, long time
  And something that was here with me now
  On Highway 29
  The road was filled with broken glass and gasoline
  She wasnt saying nothing, it was just a dream
  The wind come silent through the windshield
  All I could see was snow, sky and pines
  I closed my eyes and I was running
  I was running then I was flying