87 Southbound Lyrics - 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 pavement's burning at 92 

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 forty 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 

And 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 pavement's 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