Grease in our hair.
hands in our pockets.
we stood and stared
at cars goin' past.
we placed our bets
where they were headed.
and held our ciggarettes
like movie stars.
Grandmothers hands
hard from the garden.
she had a plan
for me to preach on day.
she prayed for rain,
she watched and she watied.
and never complained
when it did not fall.
Southbound breeze is blowin'.
this town ain't my home.
you can slow me down,
but i'm goin'.
if i can turn this road i'm on
southbound.
Stories i tell
reak of nostalgia
and those that know me well
have heard them all, before.
how far i've come,
mostly i'm proud of.
but, where i'm comin from
is callin me.
Southbound breeze is blowin'.
this town ain't my home.
you can slow me down,
but i'm goin'.
if i can turn this road i'm on...
Southbound...
You can slow me down,
but i'm goin'.
if i can turn this road i'm on...
If i can turn this road i'm on
southbound.
Southbound breeze is blowin'.
this town ain't my home.
you can slow me down,
but i'm goin'.
if i can turn this road i'm on
southbound...