The High Side

Just above sea level in the summer of '72

We were rolling up to gain altitude

But on the road there, Esther's Park

Taxis were hard to get through

In the panhandle with a bandana long

Any evidence upon we and the tomes

They ran us out of old Walter Hatch

And we broke down in witch-toned forms

Rolling up the high side

Rolling up the high side

Rolling up the high side

Down for the great divide

Some bad dudes took our eight track deck and guitar

A copy of all things of his past was blastin' down the boulevard

And when it did not end well for them in the crash of a stolen car

Rollin' up the high side

Rollin' up the high side

Rollin' up the high side

Down for the great divine

We're just a bowling ball bag of canned goods left

We gave it all we got with pots and pans tied to our bills

Oh, what a sight, the sound of banging and clanging on the trail

How the mountain grew with heavy shoes at the top

But the spirit rises faster than the body drops

I take in the view so grand, man, it never stops

Way above sea level, one summer in this little spot

Rolling up the high side

Rolling up the high side

Rolling up the high side

Down for the great divine

Rolling up the high side

Rolling up the high side

Rolling up the high side

Down for the great divine