| By Dickey Betts
|
| © 1990 CBS Records, Inc
|
| Well now times got hard
|
| And I didn’t draw the card I needed
|
| So I proceeded to bang it on down the line
|
| Hitchhike, turnpike
|
| And if you got room won’t you let me ride?
|
| Just as far as you’re going
|
| And lord knowing I’ll be much obliged
|
| There was a light rain falling
|
| I started recalling how lonesome a man can be
|
| Feeling a chill When over the hill
|
| Came a brand new baby blue Cadillac
|
| Stop on a dime
|
| I threw my guitar in the back and I climbed inside
|
| Big Blue eyes said «Hey boy don’t you want a ride?»
|
| I Said to Birmingham, Alabama
|
| Or to Nashville Tennessee will do just fine with me
|
| Don’t you know what I mean?
|
| I’m coming from New Orleans
|
| Now hey, (na na.)
|
| Mama won’t you let me ride?
|
| Well now black fur coat, diamond ring
|
| Shining like something I ain’t ever seen
|
| My old guitar and a roadside bar
|
| Walked in the door looking like a movie queen
|
| There was a honky tonk jukebox, hardwood floor
|
| She said «I ain’t ever seen nothing like this before.»
|
| I said, «That's all right, mama won’t you let me ride?»
|
| On down to Birmingham, Alabama
|
| Or to Nashville Tennessee wiil do fine with me
|
| Don’t you know what I mean?
|
| I’m coming from New Orleans
|
| Now hey, (na na.)
|
| Mama won’t you let me ride? |