paroles de chanson Little House On the Highway - Kellie Pickler
Makin'
my
way
past
Tullahoma,
Better
pick
up
the
pace.
I'm
traveling
with
a
three
ring
circus,
Headed
for
Santa
Fe.
I
finally
found
a
radio
station
And
it's
keepin'
me
wide
awake.
And
just
when
I
like
what
I
hear
playing
That's
when
it
starts
fading
away.
We're
stacking
up
miles
and
slowing
down
the
passing
lane
A
trucker's
tan
and
dirty
Ray-Bans
Looking
for
a
place
to
top
off
the
propane
Moving
on
along
in
this
little
house
on
the
highway.
The
cabinet
doors
keep
swinging
open
each
time
I
make
a
left
The
only
way
I
know
where
I'm
going
is
chasing
the
sun
straight
west
We're
stacking
up
miles
and
slowing
down
the
passing
lane
A
trucker's
tan
and
dirty
Ray-Bans
Looking
for
a
place
to
top
off
the
propane
Moving
on
along
in
this
little
house
on
the
highway.
Wheels
keep
rolling
into
mountain
time
and
the
hills
are
all
beginning
to
Rise
You'll
know
we
finally
made
it
there
when
the
wood
is
all
petrified
Well
don't
use
the
brakes,
pop
the
clutch
and
shift
those
gears
It's
no
man's
land
'til
the
Rio
Grande
Driving
through
the
sand
and
we're
just
out
here
Stacking
up
miles
and
slowing
down
the
passing
lane
A
trucker's
tan
and
dirty
Ray-Bans
Looking
for
a
place
to
top
off
the
propane
Moving
on
along
in
this
little
house
on
the
highway.
Little
house
on
the
highway
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