I’ve got my dog, got my car, but we won’t get very far.  I look to the east and look to the west, with a band tight around my chest.  It won’t let me go; won’t let me stay.  I want to run away.  I’m a daughter, and I’m a wife.  I am a keeper of all things nice.  I keep my job, I keep my house, keep making music for everyone else.  Look at my feet dancing on the stage, they want to run away.  I could go north; head for the lake.   I could go west and see my Emily.  I could go south; visit an old friend’s ghost.  I could go east, ‘til I run out of road and disappear in the colors of Pamlico Bay.  I want to run away.  I’ve got my house, I like it fine.  It’s a great place to unwind.  It was built back in 1843.  Lord knows that it’s seen worse than me, but it stands strong while I bend and sway, and want to run away.  Don’t mind me mouthing off.  Who’d of thought that I’d have enough?   I’ve got to get out of the hustle and the fray.  I want to run away.  I could go north, head for PA.  I could go west to Rocky Mountain peaks.  I could go south; visit the Low Country.  I could go east, ‘til my feet touch the sea, and lose myself in the water and the spray.  I want to runaway.