Songwriter: Chrissie Hynde

Producer: Chris Thomas

Middle of the road
Is trying to find me
I'm standing in the middle of life with my plans behind me
But I got a smile
For everyone I meet
Long as you don't try dragging my bay
Or dropping the bomb on my street

Oh, come on, baby
Get in the road
Come on now
In the middle of the road, yeah

In the middle of the road
You see the darnedest things
Like fat cats driving 'round in jeeps through the city
Wearing big diamond rings and silk suits
Past corrugated tin shacks full up with kids
And man, I don't mean a Hampstead nursery
But when you own a big chunk of the bloody Third World
The babies just come with the scenery

Now come on, baby
Get in the road
Come on now
In the middle of the road, yeah

One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six

The middle of the road
Is no private cul-de-sac
I can't get from the cab to the curb
Without some little jerk on my back
Don't harass me, can't you tell
I'm going home, I'm tired as hell
I'm not the cat I used to be
I've got a kid, I'm thirty-three, baby
Get in the road
Come on now
In the middle of the road