“In early 2023 an awkward medical condition brought it home to me that perhaps it was time to draw a line under any pretensions I have to live performance, so this version came about because I was trying out live versions that would work well with a single electric guitar for a concert set at the St Just Lafrowda festival in July 2023, my official farewell to the live stage.
I actually said my goodbye to the life of the wandering professional musician in the 1970s, so this is definitely not autobiographical, though it’s a fairly recent song, and it might have described my life if I hadn’t gone in a very different direction. I strongly suspect that if I’d persisted in trying to play music for a living, the road might well have been the ruin of me. And while my own biographical timeline is very different, I’m not unfamiliar with the psychology of a thwarted career in music.”
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Lyrics
The Road
It’s late and the driver has nothing to say
One more stop ahead
On an endless highway
One more place to be, and nowhere to stay
For the road was the ruin of me
The tour bus, the tranny,
The fluffed chords of fame
The days in the airport, the runaway train
You don’t care for my songs
And you don’t know my name
For the road was the ruin of me
I was never a drifter, I’d no urge to roam
But somehow the tour bus
Became my home
The scenery fades
And the scene is long gone
And the road was the ruin of me
The smoke and the pipe dream,
The whisky, the beer
There’s nothing to treasure
And nothing to fear
There’s no one here now
To send out for some gear
And the road was the ruin of me
The call of the wild,
And the song of the road
The end of the game
And the call of the void
There’s no one to meet
And there’s nowhere to hide
The road was the ruin of me
The heroes and villains,
The bait and the switch
The hole in my sock
And the travelling itch
I’ll never be famous,
I’ll never be rich
For the road was the ruin of me
I drank much too deep at the wishing well
I knew what I wanted but never could tell
Now I’ve only these dreams
And these few words to sell
For the road was the ruin of me
All that I’ve learned is how little I know
All I’ve come home to is a new place to go
And it’s never a place that I wanted to be
For the road was the ruin of me
credits
Words and music, Guitar and vocal, by David A. Harley.
David A. Harley 1949 – 2025
TRAVEL WORDS 
Oh, bless! The road to success is seldom easy and I think there’s a love/hate relationship with performing. I once harboured dreams of being a singer, Jude, but I had neither the talent nor the self confidence. David managed to live some of his dreams and that’s more than many people can manage xx
It’s not easy to make a living from being a musician despite having talent. David did open mic events and met up with folk friends when we were in Shrewsbury and here in Cornwall, so he played a lot with other people. It’s a shame that for the last couple of years that wasn’t an option. I think he really missed that.
How melancholy yet enticing this song is. I’m glad it’s not really autobiographical.
He suffered dreadfully from stage fright. But he did like performing most of the time. Though pub open mic events where people talked and ignored the musicians did annoy him.
Oh, aren’t audiences who come for a gossip rather than for the music the worst? I absolutely agree with him.
The lyrics are very evocative of the life of a touring musician. He got it right.
Best wishes, Pete. x
Not an easy life.
This may not have been autobiographical but it feels very real.
He was very much involved with the music industry throughout his life in one way or another. He ran a folk club for many years when he was living in London.
Sad but realistic at the same time. No matter how talented many people are they’re not going to make a living from performance arts. It’s nice that David was able to enjoy his love for music with friends.
Yes, it can be a tough life. He was lucky to find musicians to play with wherever we lived.