(David Stephenson/Clay Blaker)
|
|
I was one of those guys
|
Who though he could handle it all
|
Way too much pride
|
Head held up high standing tall
|
I was raised in a dusty old rodeo town
|
They said I was all around cowboy bound
|
So I set out after the dream
|
To answer the call
|
|
Now there's too many suitcases
|
Too many new places
|
Too many stranger's faces
|
Calling me their friend
|
If I could go my way
|
I'd go home today
|
There's too many highways
|
That never seems to end
|
|
Well it's a long way up
|
To the top of the hill
|
And if you cant pay the price
|
There's always someone who will
|
So you keep on running and you never back
|
It keeps getting harder to stay on track
|
And you wonder if anyone knows
|
How you really feel
|
|
Now there's too many suitcases
|
Too many new places
|
Too many stranger's faces
|
Calling me their friend
|
If I could go my way
|
I'd go home today
|
There's too many highways
|
That never seems to end
|
|
Lord I traded all I had for what could be
|
Now from this rundown motel room all I can see
|
|
Now there's too many suitcases
|
Too many new places
|
Too many stranger's faces
|
Calling me their friend
|
If I could go my way
|
I'd go home today
|
There's too many highways
|
That never seems to end
|
|
-----------------
|
Too Many Highways
|
Ty England |