Passing Lane

Well, I was born in Carolina, way back in the swamp

I was a happy country boy 'til television came along

It showed them far away places and it sho was a bitch

'Cause every time I'd quit my traveling,

Well, my feet would start to itch

So I borrowed my daddy's suitcase and picked up my guitar

I walked up the highway and flagged down a car

I hitchhiked out to Kansas City just as far as I could

My life was all before me and that highway sure looked good

Gimme that highway, better go my way

Crank up the big wheels, let 'em roll on

I'm movin' like a fast train, gimme that passing lane

And I'm gone, I'm packin' my load a little farther down the road

I moved on down to Dallas soon as I got the chance

I was playin' funky music for them city folks to dance

And I had money in my pocket, I had fun in my bed

But I've been here a year now and it's gettin' to my head

'Cause I've been rocked into ruin, I've been discoed to death

I've been funk rocked and punk rocked 'til I can't catch my breath

I've been ragged 'til I'm ragged, I've been new waved 'til I'm blind

But I've got a solution for my funky state of mind

Gimme that highway, better go my way

Crank up the big wheels, let 'em roll on

I'm moving like a fast train, gimme that passing lane

And I'll be gone, no more blues just as long as I can move

Gimme that highway, better go my way

Crank up the big wheels, let 'em roll on

I'm moving like a fast train, gimme that passing lane

And I'm gone, I'm packing my load a little further down the road