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Yes I knew it all along
That I'd have to go back home
Cause this living on the road
Ah it makes me tired and sore
Like a bird without a nest
Like a stranger in the night
And my soul must have its rest
But the end is not in sight
Like that sweet magnolia wine
Honey dripping from your mouth
And the little gal of mine
She's the finest in the South
And the nights are getting longer
And the days are getting colder
And I wanta go back home
Lay my head down on your shoulder
Yes I knew it all along
That I'd have to go back home
Cause this living on the road
Ah it makes me tired and sore
Like a bird without a nest
Like a stranger in the night
And my soul must have his rest
But the end is not in sight
And my soul must have his rest
But the end is not in sight
And my soul must have his rest
But the end is not in sight
And my soul must have his rest
But the end is not in sight |
