Road trips and rumble strips Sweet Lorraine she's got ruby red lips She drives about in her Plymouth lord She recently crashed her flatbed Ford Gil Scott-Heron and his brother the Baren They flew down south with their coke eyes glaring And they spoke the words: "Freedom lord" But their tongues were tied up and bleeding, lord And I find myself in a gold mine Three feet beneath that county line The oil it spilled and it blackened my face And it tore out the heart of the whole human race Young Dorothy Jean and her sewing machine Breaking at the corners and breaking at the seams Glitter and gold, well she ain't that old She looks thirty-three but she's forty, I'm told And I find myself in a gold mine Three feet beneath that county line The oil it spilled and it blackened my face And it tore out the heart of the all human race ♪ I find myself in a gold mine Three feet beneath that county line The oil it spilled and it blackened my face And it tore out the heart of the whole human race Road trips and rumble strips Sweet Lorraine, she's got ruby red lips