Somewhere between Chicago and Champaign, Urbana
I lost my suitcase with the green bandana,
Nancy has my number but it must be wrong
Cause the telephone's been ringing all day long,
But it's always for somebody, not for me,
And the lead sheets for my session are in Bag Number Three,
That's the one I lost in outer space.
Going on the road is a rat race,
And I should have stayed home in the first place.
Staying at home I get a restless feeling,
Feel as tho I'm pinned between the walls and ceiling,
What's going on in Terre Haute or Mississippi,
I'm surely missing something that could make me happy,
So I pack three bags and the guitar I prize,
I buy my ticket and I close my eyes,
And I get into a mess the large economy size.
Going on the road is a first class drag
And I should have stayed home with my Number Three Bag.