(E G#m A F#m A) B
A F#m E A B E G#m A F#m B E
Rolling South through Macon, Georgia, somewhat younger
Endless miles of steel grey highway
Hard times everywhere I turn here
Peoples faces, turning my way, somewhat boldly
Seems to me that I don't belong here
I'd have never come had someone told me
And I don't need your love to keep me warm
No I've got someone and I'm
Leaving on the first train north
And I just don't know if I'll ever
Come this far south again
Rolling through some concrete nightmare, somewhat older
Worcester sidewalks they're so cold and lonely,
Hard times are better here than nowhere
The city winters you know they chill my body, somewhat coldly
Seems to me I've got to leave this low life
And break whatever chains that hold me
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