Well, I was born in Carolina, way back in the swamp
I was a happy country boy 'til television came along
It kept showin' them far away places and it sure was a bitch
'Cause every time I'd think about traveling
Well, my feet would start to itch
So I borrowed my daddy's suitcase and picked up my guitar
I walked up to the highway and flagged down a car
I hitchhiked out to Kansas City just as fast as I could
My life was all before me and that highway sure looked good
Gimme that highway, better go my way
Crank up the big wheels, let 'em roll on
I'm moving like a fast train, gimme that passin' lane
And I'll be gone, I'm packin' my load a little farther down the road
I moved on down to Dallas soon as I got the chance
I was playing funky music for them city folks to dance
And I had money in my pocket, I had fun in my bed
But I've been here a year now and it's getting to my head
'Cause I've been rocked into ruin, I've been discoed to death
I've been funk rocked and punk rocked 'til I can't catch my breath
I've been ragged until I'm ragged, I've been new waved 'til I'm blind
But I've got a solution for my funky state of mind
Just gimme that highway, better go my way
Crank up the big wheels, let 'em roll on
I'm movin' like a fast train, gimme that passin' lane
And I'll be gone, no more blues just as long as I can move
Well gimme that highway, better go my way
Now rank up the big wheels, let 'em roll on
I'm movin' like a fast train, gimme that passin' lane
And I'll be gone, I'm packin' my load a little farther down the road
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
