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And by the time that she gets home |
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She'll realize that I am gone |
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I'll be sitting in a back bar drinkin' |
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Drinking to my friends and drinking to my foes |
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For both keep a young heart moving |
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It's good to be on the trail from where my heart set sail |
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Puttin' anchor down for friends and good beer |
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So I'll have another one then I'll be moving on |
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It's good to be on the road back home again, again |
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And by the time that he arrives, he will read, I have lied |
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He'll go drinking to his friends and to his foes |
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But drinking in the devil that tears one apart |
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Leaving memories of what should have been and wasn't |
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Son Petit business in Tokyo Town |
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Italy for the apples to where my heart is now |
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Now it's giddy up or whoa and I'm afraid |
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It's good to be back on the road home |
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It's good to be on the road back, home again, again |
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I swear, I meant to leave Chattanooga, but |
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But I had another one and I realized what I'd gone |
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And I realized what I'd done |
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I need to be on the first bus back into her arms |
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It's good to be on the road, back home |
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Too many nights in dirty London Town |
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Italy for the apples to where my heart is now |
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For I've lost myself, searchin' for what I ain't |
|
It's good to be on the road, back home again |
|
Leave Chattanooga, walk in to New York City |
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Aeroplane down to Nippon ground |
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Meets some friends in Tokyo Town |
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Across to West Maluva, showboat to West Malay |
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Leave my foes to their woes, sometimes, that's how it goes |
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It's good to be on the road, back home again |
