87 Southbound
By Hank Williams III


        E                           B7
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.