The Lower 48 - Traveling Tune lyrics

I left Chicago with the summer time as the yawning nights drew to a close Couldnt get the smell of gra** and cheap red wine out of my mind Headlights on for it was growing dim like signal fires to the moon Young and free and on my own again Whistling a traveling tune Whistling a traveling tune The map sprawls out like a prophecy The road paves over an old wound Though my soul is like a flock of geese headed home to soon Whistling a traveling tune