[Lyric] Another Traveling Salesman (Max Garca Conover)

You don’t know what you came here for
You don’t know what you came here for
The road ahead is serpentine
The sky above is spitting rain
You don’t know what you came here for

You’re three thousand miles from your home
You’re three thousand miles from your home
You left a good love
So can’t you even say for what
You’re three thousand miles from your home

You don’t mind the driving
You see the passing fields
You like going way out in your thoughts
But every night you feel it
That hungry sort of sadness
Like there’s some essential thing you haven’t got
You thought you’d be a kind man by now
But you’re not
There’s a woman in the room backstage
There’s a woman in the room backstage
She’s asking if you came alone
She was in the bar she heard your song
There’s a woman in the room backstage

You don’t know what you came here for
You don’t know what you came here for
And if they all believed in you
Would that make what you’re saying true?
You don’t know what you came here for

You don’t mind the moving
But you miss her all the time
You pretend to be a traveler but you’re not
And every night you feel it
That hungry sort of sadness
Like there’s some essential thing you haven’t got
And they say you’re getting better all the time

You don’t mind the moving
But you’re going round in circles
And you can’t see as clearly as you thought
And every night you feel it
That hungry sort of sadness
Like there’s some essential thing you haven’t got
You thought that you’d be satisfied by now
But you’re not
You get home in the dead of the night
You get home in the dead of the night
You shut the door and get in bed
She lies her head against your chest
You’re home in the dead of the night