Well I caught you with him,
on those damp sattin sheets.
So then i packed my things, then I hit the streets.
87 South Bound.
To San Antonio.
its getting late out,
i aint got no home.
The pavements burnin'
Hot 92.
I dont need to hear no more excuses that I dont love you.
Lord the sun keeps beating me down and its hotter than hell.
And if I'm lucky I'll catch a ride, but you can never tell. I'd rather be here w ith the bugs and flies, than back there hearing your allibies.
Heard all that I'm gonna hear you say, gonna take my pride and go the other way.
(chorus)
87 South Bound.
To San Antonio.
its getting late out.
I'm 40 miles from home.
The rain keeps fallin', like the tears in my eyes.
I'm just trying to wash away the hurt form all your lies.
Lightning streaks accross the evening skies.
and if i'm lucky I'll make it big, or lay right down and die.
I know when the mornin' comes, i'm gonna be a walkin' son of a gun.
and afternoon comes a rollin' around I'll have 10 more miles and 1 more town.
(chorus)
87 South Bouth.
To San Antonio.
its gettin late out.
I aint got no home.
The pavement's burnin', hot 102.
I dont need to hear no more excuses that i love you.
I dont need to hear no more excuses that i love you.
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