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Well, I was born in |
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Carolina, way back in the swamp |
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I was a happy country boy 'til television came along |
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It showed them far away places and it sho' was a bitch' |
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Cause every time |
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I'd quit my traveling, well, my feet would start to itch |
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So I borrowed my daddy's suitcase and picked up my guitar |
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I walked up the highway and |
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I flagged down a car |
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I hitchhiked out to |
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Kansas City just as far as |
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I couldMy life was all before me and that highway sure looked good |
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Gimme that highway, better go my way |
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Crank up the big wheels, let 'em roll on |
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I'm movin' like a fast train, gimme that passing lane |
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And I'm gone, |
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I'm packin' my load a little further down the road |
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I moved on down to |
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Dallas soon as |
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I got the chance |
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I was playin' funky music for them city folks to dance |
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And I had money in my pocket, |
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I had fun in my bed |
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But I've been here a year now and it's gettin' to my head' |
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Cause I've been rocked into ruin, |
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I've been discoed to death |
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I've been funk rocked and punk rocked 'til |
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I can't catch my breath |
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I've been ragged 'til |
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I'm ragged, |
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I've been new waved 'til |
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I'm blindBut |
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I've got a solution for my funky state of mind |
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Gimme that highway, better go my way |
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Crank up the big wheels, let 'em roll on |
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I've movin' like a fast train, gimme that passing lane |
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And I'll be gone, no more blues just as long as |
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I can move |
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Gimme that highway, better go my way |
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Crank up the big wheels, let 'em roll on |
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I've movin' like a fast train, gimme that passing lane |
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And I'm gone, |
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I'm packin' my load a little further down the road |
