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E                    
Well, I caught you with him on those damn satin sheets, 
     A                    B7             E 
So I packed my things and then I hit the streets 
E                        B7 
87 southbound to San Antone 
                                      E 
It's getting late out, I ain't got no home 
E                             A 
The pavements burning down at 92   
                E               B7                    E  
I don't need to hear no more excuses and I don't love you 
 

E                               B7 
Lord, the sun keeps beating me down 
                     E  
And it's hotter than hell 
            B7                                       E 
And if I'm lucky I'll catch a ride but you can never tell 
    A                                           E    
I'd rather be here with the bugs and flies than back there hearing your alibis 
B7 
Heard all that I'm gonna hear you say 
                                         E  
I'm gonna take my pride and go the other way 
 
 
87 southbound to San Antone 
It's getting late out, I'm 40 miles from home 
The rain keeps falling like the tears in my eyes 
I'm just trying to wash away the hurt from all your lies 
 
Lightening streaks across the evening sky  
And if I'm lucky I'll make it big or lay right down and die. 
I know when the morning comes I'm gonna be a walking son of a gun 
And afternoon comes rolling around 
I'll have ten more miles and one more town 
 
87 southbound to San Antone 
I's getting late out, I ain't got no home 
The pavements burning at 102 
I don't need to hear no more excuses and I don't love you. 
I don't need to hear no more excuses and I don't love you.