(Bill Fries, Chip Davis)
|
|
She was mud and sand and concrete
|
Mixed with water made a' tears
|
From the rivers runnin' down the Great Divide
|
She was three thousand miles
|
Of rockin', rollin' highway
|
A million mem'ries long and two lanes wide
|
|
Far across the wide Missouri
|
To the ol' Wyomin' line
|
From the Jersey shore to San Francisco Bay
|
She was known to all the truckers
|
As the mighty Lincoln Highway
|
But to me, she's still Old 30 all the way
|
|
Now the Interstate goes screamin' through the backyard of her life
|
But it just don't send those shivers down my spine
|
So before I take that exit
|
To the Highway In The Sky
|
I'm gonna take Old 30 one more time
|
|
She was radiators boilin'
|
In the burnin' summer sun
|
And a blizzard blowin' wild across the plains
|
She was tumbleweeds a-rollin'
|
In the gentle winds of Fall
|
And the lights of old Grand Island in the rain
|
|
She was mud and sand and concrete
|
Mixed with water made a' tears
|
From the rivers runnin' down the Great Divide
|
She was three thousand miles
|
Of rockin', rollin' highway
|
A million mem'ries long and two lanes wide
|
|
Now the Interstate goes screamin' through the backyard of her life
|
But it just don't send those shivers down my spine
|
So before I take that exit
|
To the Highway In The Sky
|
I'm gonna take Old 30 one more time
|
|
One more time
|
|
-----------------
|
Old 30
|
C.W. McCall |