Tekst:
John Hiatt Beneath This Gruff Exterior

i wake up with my head and hand i wish i was another man 'Cause i almost fed up with the blues i think about the kitchen sink then i just shudder to

fly away there was a rattlesnake up on the road i ran him over and over 'Til he died then his ghost rose up and curled around this fear i hold

CHORUS: this Travelin' life, well it ain't no good i'd quit it honey, oh if i could a puzzle to me why i even care the missing pieces are everywhere CHORUS: this

she marked our trail up the back bone ridge how many times can one dog pee she keeps me high as an eagle when i'm on the skids i guess you gotta

post for the most unoriginal sin now the juke box is hummin' al the venial short comings of men but i found me this drink that can finally sink all this

well I do my best thinking sitting on my ass sittin' here waiting for things to pass you got places to go and people to see well honey that's you,