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Hank Williams III - 87 Southbound


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#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------#
#This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the #
#song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. #
#------------------------------------------------------------------------------#


87 Southbound
Written by Hancock
Performed by Hank Williams, III "Rising Outlaw"
Transcribed by John Kennedy (jdkennedy77@aol.com)

                            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, itís getting late out, I ainít got no home.
E                                        A
The pavements burning down at 92  
                E               B                         E 
I donít need to hear no more excuses and I donít love you.

E                               B                       E
Lord, the sun keeps beating me down and itís hotter than hell.
            B                                   E
And if Iím lucky Iíll catch a ride but you can never tell.
A                                           E   
Iíd rather be here with the bugs and flies than back there hearing your alibis
B                                                                             
 E
Heard all that Iím gonna hear you say, Iím gonna take my pride and go the 
other way.

E                         B                                             E
87 southbound to San Antone, itís getting late out, Iím 40 miles from home,
E                                               A
The rain keeps falling like the tears in my eyes, 
E                                   B                  E
Iím just trying to wash away the hurt from all your lies.

E                   B                   E
Lightening streaks across the evening sky 
           B                                           E    
and if Iím lucky Iíll make it big or lay right down and die.
A                                   E                               
I know when the morning comes Iím gonna be a walking son of a gun.
B                                                                       E
And afternoon comes rolling around, Iíll have ten more miles and one more 
town.

E                         B                                          E
87 southbound to San Antone, itís getting late out, I ainít got no home,
E                              A    
The pavements burning at 102.  
                  E             B                           E
I donít need to hear no more excuses and I donít love you.
                    E                 B                         E   
I donít need to hear no more excuses and I donít love you. 



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