Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy, Out in the back seat of my '60 Chevy. Workin' on mysteries without any clues, Workin' on our night… - Bob Seger

Moving eight miles a minute for months at a time
Breaking all of the rules that would bend
I began to find myself searchin'
Searching for shelter again and again.<p>Against the wind
A little something against the wind
I found myself seeking shelter
Against the wind.

All I know is that I'm young and your rules they are old
If I've got to kill to live then there's something left untold
I'm no statesman I'm no general. I'm no kid I'll never be
It's the rules not the soldier that I find the real enemy.

Out there in the spotlight you're a million miles away.
Every ounce of energy you try to give away.
As the sweat pours out your body like the music that you play.
Later in the evening, as you lie awake in bed.
With the echoes from the amplifiers ringin' in your head.
You smoke the day's last cigarette, rememberin' what she said.