| Seems like there’s just ain’t no point in doing anything
|
| Each time I drive my John Deere home
|
| To a phone that never rings
|
| And each time i haul the diesel down
|
| Right past the county line
|
| I see her face in every damn road sign
|
| On that old road 99
|
| I sit and think about happy times
|
| When I was still her man
|
| I drink and shake and smoke and look
|
| At my own trembling hands
|
| The only good I had in life the liquor drove away
|
| I saw her leave in a truck that wasn’t mine
|
| Down that damn road 99
|
| It ain’t easy to hold on
|
| But it’s harder to let go
|
| And I can’t pull myself together
|
| I can’t believe that she ain’t mine
|
| And that she left me behind
|
| When she took road 99
|
| I get up early and I work my fingers to the bone
|
| But every night when I get home
|
| I’m sitting there alone
|
| And each time I drank that whisky down
|
| I’m drinking to forget
|
| And I see her smile, and I drink until i’m blind
|
| And I curse the 99
|
| It ain’t easy to hold on
|
| But it’s harder to let go
|
| And I can’t pull myself together
|
| I can’t believe that she ain’t mine
|
| And that she left me behind
|
| When she took road 99
|
| Took road 99
|
| She took road 99
|
| Road 99
|
| Road 99 |