Back-pack, overcoat, no turning back from what was to come
Now he was moving on
Got to make the highway, before the morning’s done
Main Street, motorway, talk to folks got something to say
The day was cold and long, 
Stopping at a café, then on and on

Well the time it had come now for the carpenter’s son
To tell the world what was wrong
And to do what had to be done
Ooh da da da
Ooh da da da
Got no Cadillac and he don’t pack a powerful PA
or hire a meeting hall
But brother, when you meet him, he speak straight to your soul

Well the birds got the trees, you know and I’ve got my bed, 
But the carpenter’s son he had nowhere to lay his head 
Nowhere to lay his head 
Nowhere to lay his head

Got no Cadillac and he don’t pack a powerful PA or hire a meeting hall 
But brother, when you meet him, he’ll speak straight to your soul 
Brother, when you meet him, he’ll speak straight to your soul
Brother, when you meet him, he’ll speak straight to your soul

Graham Kendrick
© 1972 John T Benson Publishing Company