Written by Max Stalling
C G D G Every once in awhile, I do drift homewards C G D Sometimes I drive, sometimes I just dream C G D G 400 miles in six hard pushing hours C G D To check on a life that is just out of reach C G D G I think of a child sleeping by open windows C G D Two miles away there's this bar on a hill C G D G Playing conjunto into the small hours C G D It drifts cross the plowed fields and his window sillI traded rattlers and scorpions for roaches And wide open spaces for a job that pays good Now as I sit here in Traffic in Stressville I wonder if I'm being paid what I should Chorus I think of a girl and I can see her face plain Dark eyes in moonlight but her name just escapes You never forget the feel of the first time Does it suprise you to hear me say? Chorus I've got this friend he's a lawyer in Dallas His folks grow potatoes out panhandle way He talks of Bob Wills and Playboys and Turkeys Off come his wing tips and boots take their place He likes the sound of a Mexican bass run I like the feel that it puts in my bones Sometimes I wonder how I ever got here I'm just trying to get home We like the sound of a bass run We like the feel that it puts in our bones Sometimes we wonder how we got here How the hell are we gonna get home?G C G D I like the sound of a Mexican bass run G C G D I like the feel that it puts in my bones G C G D Sometimes I wonder how I ever got here G C D I'm just trying to get home