You're a bottle-cap away, from pushing me too far
|
Well the problem's getting big and its a compact car
|
So I won't feel so bad, I did all I could do
|
Now I'm on wounded knee and we're at waterloo
|
So Please get out, of my car
|
|
::Chorus::
|
I was born in the backseat of a mustang
|
On a cold night in a hard rain
|
And the very first song that the radio sang
|
It was "I won't be home no more."
|
|
You're a rattle-trap tonight, my ears are getting tired
|
So listen for awhile, before this thing expired
|
It was bound to fail because of where I'm from
|
Now the moon's at four o'clock and It's high time kingdome come
|
So please get out, of my car
|
|
::Repeat Chorus 2x's::
|
|
I'm pulling off the road, I'm opening the door
|
I'm giving you the pavement, I'm telling you what for
|
You're no more than a thought
|
And you're getting smaller in my rearview mirror
|
Yeah, you're getting smaller in my rearview mirror
|
Yeah, you're getting smaller
|
|
::Repeat Chorus until it fades::
|
|
-----------------
|
Won't Be Home
|
Old 97's |