87 Southbound by Wayne Hancock
Well, I [E]caught you with him on those damn, slick, sticky satin sheets
Then I [A]packed my things and [B7]then I hit the [E]streets
[E]87 southbound to San An[B7]tone
Youve got your baby, I got got no [E]home
[E]The pavements burning down at 1[A]02
I dont need to [E]hear no more ex[B7]cuses that I dont need [E]you
[E]Lord, the sun keeps beating me [B7]down
And its hotter than [E]hell
And [B7]if Im lucky Ill catch a ride but you can never [E]tell
Id [A]rather be here with the bugs and flies than [E]back there hearing your alibis
I [B7]heard all that Im gonna hear you say
Im gonna take my pride and go the other [E]way
87 southbound to San Antone
Its getting late out, Im 40 miles from home
The rain keeps falling like the tears in my eyes
Im just trying to wash away all the hurt from all your lies
Lightning streaks across the evening sky
And if Im lucky Ill make it big or lay right down and die.
I know when the morning comes Ill still be a walking son of a gun
And afternoon comes rolling around
Ill have ten more miles and one more town
87 southbound to San Antone
Youve got your baby, Ive got no home
The pavements burning at 92
I dont need to hear no more excuses and I dont love you.
I dont need to hear no more excuses and I dont love you.
Well, I [E]caught you with him on those damn, slick, sticky satin sheets
Then I [A]packed my things and [B7]then I hit the [E]streets
[E]87 southbound to San An[B7]tone
Youve got your baby, I got got no [E]home
[E]The pavements burning down at 1[A]02
I dont need to [E]hear no more ex[B7]cuses that I dont need [E]you
[E]Lord, the sun keeps beating me [B7]down
And its hotter than [E]hell
And [B7]if Im lucky Ill catch a ride but you can never [E]tell
Id [A]rather be here with the bugs and flies than [E]back there hearing your alibis
I [B7]heard all that Im gonna hear you say
Im gonna take my pride and go the other [E]way
87 southbound to San Antone
Its getting late out, Im 40 miles from home
The rain keeps falling like the tears in my eyes
Im just trying to wash away all the hurt from all your lies
Lightning streaks across the evening sky
And if Im lucky Ill make it big or lay right down and die.
I know when the morning comes Ill still be a walking son of a gun
And afternoon comes rolling around
Ill have ten more miles and one more town
87 southbound to San Antone
Youve got your baby, Ive got no home
The pavements burning at 92
I dont need to hear no more excuses and I dont love you.
I dont need to hear no more excuses and I dont love you.
