June 2019
Words and music by Mike Lance
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It's a familiar, trite scene
At the crossroads, barren and swept clean
With no way to take you home
When behold from the far side
There approaches a lone passerby
Who must seem quite strange, all silver and champagne
We'll I'd feel like Robert Johnson
Way back in nineteen-thirty-somethin'
As the sun sets on the plains, and on and on and on they're saying
"I'll only ask you once, and the question's plain
Are you going my way?
Are you going my way?"
"One word will suffice
Just one way or the other one, that's fine
I thought I heard something faint I wish you'd reconsider
I'm from a place you've never seen
I've seen the world in ways you'd never dream
And it can all be yours, just follow me"
"'Cause like I said last time, I'll only ask you once
Are you going my way?
Are you going my way?
Are you going my way?"
Don't take the bait!
Don't take the bait!
Don't take the bait!
Don't take the bait!
"One last chance now, the question's plain"
"Are you going my way?" (Don't take the bait!)
"Are you going my way?" (Don't take the bait!)
"Are you going my way?" (Don't take the bait!)
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