Written by Hancock
Performed by Hank Williams, III "Rising Outlaw"
Transcribed by John Kennedy ([email protected])
87 Southbound-Hancock (Hank III)
Well, I caught you with him [A] [Bb] [B] on those damn satin sheets,
So I packed my things and then I hit the streets.
[E]87 southbound to San Ant[B]one, it’s getting late out, I ain’t got [E]no home.
[E]The pavements burning down at 92 [A]
I don’t need t[E]o hear no more e[B]xcuses and I don’t love [E]you.
[E]Lord, the sun keeps beating me d[B]own and it’s hotter th[E]an hell.
And if I’m[B] lucky I’ll catch a ride but you c[E]an never tell.
[A]I’d rather be here with the bugs and flies[E] than back there hearing your alibis
[B]
H[E]eard all that I’m gonna hear you say, I’m gonna take my pride and go the
other way.
[E]87 southbound to San Anton[B]e, it’s getting late out, I’m 40 miles fro[E]m home,
[E]The rain keeps falling like the tears in my eyes[A],
[E]I’m just trying to wash away the h[B]urt from all your l[E]ies.
[E]Lightening streaks a[B]cross the evening sk[E]y
and if I’[B]m lucky I’ll make it big or lay right down[E] and die.
[A]I know when the morning comes I’m [E]gonna be a walking son of a gun.
[B]And afternoon comes rolling around, I’ll have ten more miles and one m[E]ore
town.
[E]87 southbound to San Anton[B]e, it’s getting late out, I ain’t got n[E]o home,
[E]The pavements burning at 102. [A]
I don’t need to [E]hear no more e[B]xcuses and I don’t love yo[E]u.
I don’t need to he[E]ar no more excuses[B] and I don’t love you. [E]
Performed by Hank Williams, III "Rising Outlaw"
Transcribed by John Kennedy ([email protected])
87 Southbound-Hancock (Hank III)
Well, I caught you with him [A] [Bb] [B] on those damn satin sheets,
So I packed my things and then I hit the streets.
[E]87 southbound to San Ant[B]one, it’s getting late out, I ain’t got [E]no home.
[E]The pavements burning down at 92 [A]
I don’t need t[E]o hear no more e[B]xcuses and I don’t love [E]you.
[E]Lord, the sun keeps beating me d[B]own and it’s hotter th[E]an hell.
And if I’m[B] lucky I’ll catch a ride but you c[E]an never tell.
[A]I’d rather be here with the bugs and flies[E] than back there hearing your alibis
[B]
H[E]eard all that I’m gonna hear you say, I’m gonna take my pride and go the
other way.
[E]87 southbound to San Anton[B]e, it’s getting late out, I’m 40 miles fro[E]m home,
[E]The rain keeps falling like the tears in my eyes[A],
[E]I’m just trying to wash away the h[B]urt from all your l[E]ies.
[E]Lightening streaks a[B]cross the evening sk[E]y
and if I’[B]m lucky I’ll make it big or lay right down[E] and die.
[A]I know when the morning comes I’m [E]gonna be a walking son of a gun.
[B]And afternoon comes rolling around, I’ll have ten more miles and one m[E]ore
town.
[E]87 southbound to San Anton[B]e, it’s getting late out, I ain’t got n[E]o home,
[E]The pavements burning at 102. [A]
I don’t need to [E]hear no more e[B]xcuses and I don’t love yo[E]u.
I don’t need to he[E]ar no more excuses[B] and I don’t love you. [E]
