|
It was a place of contentment |
|
And the family came by |
|
For some good-byes and good-lucks |
|
Then I left 'em behind |
|
In a rig from the old man |
|
I watched the sun comin' up |
|
through the fog on the windshield |
|
through the steam from the cup |
|
Eight more miles |
|
Eight more miles |
|
Eight more miles, we'll be high |
|
I can't decide |
|
If eight more miles |
|
is the top of the world |
|
or the end of the line |
|
It's a long stretch of highway |
|
drivin' into the wind |
|
But at the end you'll find the oldest tricks in a book |
|
that I still haven't read |
|
Eight more miles |
|
Eight more miles |
|
Eight more miles, we'll be high |
|
I can't decide |
|
If eight more miles |
|
is the top of the world |
|
or the end of the line |
|
If you go to the end of the road, |
|
you look back all the way down the line |
|
You see |
|
all those miles |
|
all those miles |
|
All those miles from so high |
|
You'll decide |
|
if all those miles |
|
to the top of the world |
|
was worth the ride |
|
It was a place of contentment |
|
And the family dropped by |
|
For some good-byes and tough-lucks |
|
Then I left 'em behind |
