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• Headed South • | by Van Zant
Out on the road 200 days a year
Blowing smoke and grinding gears
My bones are aching from this northern cold
Baby’s crying on the telephone
Momma says I’ve been gone too long
This whiskey I’ve been drinking alone is sure getting old

(Chorus 1:)
This old highway don’t seem to end
Counting the days ‘til I’m home again
Bus wheels turning from town to town
I wish I could set this circus down
I’ve had enough, I’m punching out
‘Cause this whole thing
Is headed south, headed south

One more night at the 8 Days Inn
I need to hold my baby again
These four damn walls are closing in on me
Unpacking my bags just to pack ‘em again
Don’t want you to see the shape I’m in
I could sure use some shade from a live oak tree

(Chorus 2:)
This old highway don’t seem to end
Counting the days ‘til I’m home again
Bus wheels turning from town to town
I wish I could set this circus down
I’ve had enough, I’m punching out
‘Cause this old boy is headed south

The Sewanee River, the Mason Dixon
Her pretty face, all the things I’m missing
I’m headed south, headed south

(Chorus 3:)
This old highway’s coming to an end
Today’s the day I’m coming home again
Bus wheels coming right to my town
I just set this circus down
I’ve had enough, I’m punching out
I’m coming home
I’m headed south, headed south
I’m headed south

I’m blowing smoke, grinding gears
I’m headed south, headed south
I’m headed south
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