Hank Williams III 87 Southbound (Wayne Hancock) A Bb B Well, I caught you with him on those damn satin sheets, So I packed my things and then I hit the streets. E B E 87 southbound to San Antone, it’s getting late out, I ain’t got no home. E A The pavements burning down at 92 E B E I don’t need to hear no more excuses and I don’t love you. E B E Lord, the sun keeps beating me down and it’s hotter than hell. B E And if I’m lucky I’ll catch a ride but you can never tell. A E I’d rather be here with the bugs and flies than back there hearing your alibis B E Heard all that I’m gonna hear you say, I’m gonna take my pride and go the other way. E B E 87 southbound to San Antone, it’s getting late out, I’m 40 miles from home, E A The rain keeps falling like the tears in my eyes, E B E I’m just trying to wash away the hurt from all your lies. E B E Lightening streaks across the evening sky B E and if I’m lucky I’ll make it big or lay right down and die. A E I know when the morning comes I’m gonna be a walking son of a gun. B E And afternoon comes rolling around, I’ll have ten more miles and one more town. E B E 87 southbound to San Antone, it’s getting late out, I ain’t got no home, E A The pavements burning at 102. E B E I don’t need to hear no more excuses and I don’t love you. E B E I don’t need to hear no more excuses and I don’t love you.