well i met him in minnesota
he was dark and overcast
with long grey hair and eyes that stared
through me like i was glass
i asked where are you going to
he said i’m the wind i’m just blowing through
he lit up a cigarette and began to talk

see the doctors told me
my body won’t hold me
my lungs are turning black
been lucky strike’s fool since i was at school
now there ain’t no turning back
they can’t tell me how long i’ve got
maybe months but maybe not
i’m taking this bike and riding to new york

‘cos i wanna see my granddaughter one last time
wanna hold her close and feel her tiny heart beat next to mine
wanna see my son and the man he’s become
tell him i’m sorry for the things i’ve done
and i’d do it if i had to walk
i’m taking this bike and riding to new york

through the forests of wisconsin
that i knew as a boy
past the skyline of chicago
round the lakes of illinois
i’ll lay my head in a motel bed
when my back gets sore and my eyes turn red
and listen to the trucks roll past my door

through the fields of ohio
as the sunshine paints them gold
i’ll run like a river runs
rapid quick and cold
and fly through pennsylvania
and the jersey turnpike tolls
and i won’t stop ’til i get to new york

‘cos i wanna see my grandson one last time
wanna see his eyes sparkling and stare back in to mine
now my time is short i wanna see my daughter
tell her i’m sorry for the things i taught her
and i’d do it if i had to walk
oh i’m taking this bike i’m riding to new york

and i’d go up to the churchyard one last time
lay flowers down for the woman who gave me
the best years of my life
and i’d do it if i had to walk
i’d do it if i had to walk
i’m taking this bike and riding to new york