I was sixteen years of age when I fled my family's house
And I hitchhiked down the highway tryin' to make my way down south.
It was in the dead of winter and it chilled me to the bone,
But I was sixteen years of age, just tryin' to get a message home.
It was cold and it was windy and I was two days in my flight,
And my shoes were almost wore through, and the day was almost night,
When the only car I saw that day came rollin' into view.
I just ran onto the highway for to see what I could do.
I waved my arms and hollered and the car it did slow down,
And I asked the man inside to help me for to get to the very next town.
He nodded "yes" and I jumped inside. I was thankful, safe and warm,
But the stranger kept his eyes ahead and drove straight into the storm.
I guess I must have fell asleep but I couldn't tell how long,
When I woke up in a hurry with the feel of something wrong.
The stranger was still driving and he did not say a word,
And I asked him many questions but he seemed not to have heard.
Then fear began to grab me and I reached out for the door.
When I almost had it open, well, the car began to soar.
As it angled towards the heavens, I just tried to catch my breath,
For it was then I knew what time it was, and the stranger's name was death.