Busted flat in Baton Rouge, waiting for a trainI was feeling near as faded as my jeansBobby thumbed a diesel down just before it rainedAnd rode us all the way to New Orleans I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandanaI was playing soft while Bobby sang the bluesWindshield wipers slapping time, I was holding Bobby’s hand in mineWe sang every song that driver knew Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to loseNothing don’t mean nothing honey if it ain’t free, now nowAnd feeling good was easy…
O pesmi „Me and Bobby McGee“ Dženis Džoplin
