paroles de chanson 87 Southbound - Hank Williams III
Well,
I
caught
you
with
him
On
those
damp
satin
sheets,
So
I
packed
my
things
And
then
I
hit
the
streets
87
southbound
To
San
Antone
It's
getting
late
out,
I
ain't
got
no
home
The
pavements
burning
At
ninety-two
I
don't
need
to
hear
no
more
excuses
That
I
don't
love
you
Lord,
the
sun
keeps
beating
me
down
And
it's
hotter
than
hell
And
if
I'm
lucky
I'll
catch
a
ride,
But
you
can
never
tell
I'd
rather
be
here
with
the
bugs
and
flies
Than
back
there
hearing
your
alibis
Heard
all
that
I'm
gonna
hear
you
say,
I'm
gonna
take
my
pride
and
go
the
other
way
87
southbound
To
San
Antone
It's
getting
late
out,
I'm
40
miles
from
home
The
rain
keeps
falling
Like
the
tears
in
my
eyes,
I'm
just
trying
to
wash
away
The
hurt
from
all
your
lies
Lightning
streaks
across
the
evening
sky
And
if
I'm
lucky
I'll
make
it
big
Or
lay
right
down
and
die
I
know
when
the
morning
comes
I'm
gonna
be
a
walking
son
of
a
gun.
When
afternoon
comes
rolling
around,
I'll
have
ten
more
miles
and
one
more
town
87
southbound,
To
San
Antone
It's
getting
late
out,
I
ain't
got
no
home
The
pavements
burning,
At
a
hundred
and
two
I
don't
need
to
hear
no
more
excuses
That
I
don't
love
you
I
don't
need
to
hear
no
more
excuses
That
I
don't
love
you
Attention! N'hésitez pas à laisser des commentaires.