None of them
A Long Road Home A C#m D A How I long to feel the salty wind F#m C#m D E Off Galveston Bay in my face once again F#m C#m D A A warm southern wind on my weather worn skin F#m C#m Bm E Perhaps I would not feel so old Now I long to hold the golden sand In the hollow of my hand Stand for a while there and fill in the hole Left in the heart of a wounded old soul A C#m D A Here’s to tomorrow, here,s to today F#m C#m D E Here’s to whatever I never did say F#m C# D Bm Here’s to old friends who have gone seperate ways A E A Here’s to the memories How I long to be in those East Texas woods I would be in those old piney woods if I could On a hot summer mornin' down Centerville Way With the windows rolled down in my old Chevrolet Just cruisin' the backroads with nothin' but time Three nickels short of having a dime Miles from the highway with no hill left to climb Me and the whisperin' pine Here’s to tomorrow, here,s to today Here’s to whatever I never did say Here’s to your love you are happy I pray Out on this long stretch of Interstate 10 That ole Del Rio station just keeps rollin' right in Many the night it was my only friend Me and the radio The Silver Moon Cafe was once out this way Like Route 66 boys it too had its day And this rusty old sign here is all that remains My how the times have changed They tell me ole Bud Rose hocked his guitar Bought a ticket to Nashville to become a big star Now he works on a bottle and he lives in a car Do you still have your dreams You remember the old town here yesterday The walk from the Ryman to the Linebow Cafe We would stop in at Tootsies and Tubbs on the way And slowly head East down to First and Broadway Hey look at that ole river but how it just keeps rollin' If it was a clock I could stop I would try I would let it roll down on about '65 Perhaps I would not feel so old Hoist all the sails Bud to hell with the breeze Prayed for a wind that will bend every tree And a storm that will bring every man to his knee Heres to the howlin' sea Here’s to tomorrow heres to today Here’s to whatever I never could say Here’s to the piper the bastards been paid Down on this long stretch of Interstate 10 El Paso to Phoenix to L.A. and then it is north to northwest I just follow the wind And by midnight tonight I will be home in Springfield again
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