C Am F G CC Am It must be that time of yearF G I'm feeling that pull againC Am I've got to get away from hereF G Oh get back to where my feet can standC Am Back to where the trees grow tallF G Ain't a sound for miles aroundC Am Except for the distant callF G C Of that lonely coyote's howlF C Well life's mysteries unravel when my tires hit that gravelG C And I leave the paved road far behindC Am And every breath I breathe is one step closer to meF G C Easing my worried mindC Am Way back in the sticksF G is where I feel aliveC Am where my rusty old '66F G C won't even go fifty fiveC Am Nothing can compareF G to the joy that I've foundC Am every time I go back thereF G C to my own spiritual groundF C Well life's mysteries unravel when my tires hit that gravelG C And I leave the paved road far behindC Am And every breath I breathe is one step closer to meF G C Easing my worried mindC Am I'll make a quart of sweet corn whiskeyF G From ten gallons of sour mashC Am Turn a pile of firewoodF G C Into a pile of sky grey ashC Am If there's anything left inside meF G That remembers what it's like to feelC Am That cold rain falling on the top of my headF G C And the mud beneath my heelsF C Well life's mysteries unravel when my tires hit that gravelG C And I leave the paved road far behindC Am And every breath I breathe is one step closer to meF G C Easing my worried mindC Am And every breath I breathe is one step closer to meF G C Easing my worried mind
Gravel Road
William Elliott Whitmore
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Continua depois do anúncio
Tom:
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