There was a man in his car trying to talk to me
He drove a Pontiac, red, 1963
He shouted numbers and neighborhood streets
I said, "I wouldn't know. I wouldn't know"
And then I said to myself, "what's he lookin' for"
An illegitimate son with an open door
Or else the calling from God he could not ignore
I guess in my own way
Just like him I am wandering, wondering run away
But aren't we all just
Looking for a place to land
Looking for a friend to call
Looking for a destination, conversation, fascination
To protect us from the fall
Looking for the one to love
Looking for a brand new day
Looking for a reason to stand
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