Well, I caught you with him on those damn satin sheets,
So I packed my things and then I hit the streets
87 southbound to San Antone
It's getting late out, I ain't got no home
The pavements burning down at 92
I don't need to hear no more excuses and I don't love you
Lord, the sun keeps beating me down
And it's hotter than hell
And if I'm lucky I'll catch a ride but you can never tell
I'd rather be here with the bugs and flies than back there hearing your alibis
Heard all that I'm gonna hear you say
I'm gonna take my pride and go the other way
87 southbound to San Antone