|
Grease in our hair
|
Hands in our pockets
|
We stood and stared
|
At cars goin' past
|
We placed our bets
|
Where they were headed
|
And held our cigarettes
|
Like movie stars
|
|
Grandmother's hands
|
Hard from the garden
|
She had a plan
|
For me to preach one day
|
She prayed for rain
|
She watched and she waited
|
And never complained
|
When it did not fall
|
|
Southbound
|
Breezes blowing
|
This town ain't my home
|
You can slow me down
|
But I'm going
|
If I can turn this road I'm on
|
Southbound
|
|
Stories I tell
|
Reek of nostalgia
|
And those that know me well
|
Have heard 'em all before
|
How far I've come
|
Mostly I'm proud of
|
But where I'm comin' from
|
Is calling me
|
|
Southbound
|
Breezes blowing
|
This town ain't my home
|
You can slow me down
|
But I'm going
|
If I can turn this road I'm on
|
Southbound
|
|
You can slow me down
|
But I'm going
|
If I can turn this road I'm on
|
If I can turn this road I'm on
|
Southbound
|
|
Southbound
|
Breezes blowing
|
This town ain't my home
|
You can slow me down
|
But I'm going
|
If I can turn this road I'm on
|
Southbound
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Southbound
|
| Sammy Kershaw |
