The Road

Written by Nicolette Good. Copyright 2012.

I was raised up down in Texas
With a pickup truck for my home
And my daddy couldn’t stay put
So he took to the open road

And as the daughter of a nomad
Well, I really should’ve known
That any man that comes from Texas
Is sure to roam

Today I walked down to the bayou
Just to kiss my man goodbye
And he said, “Baby, come tomorrow,
I will be back here by your side.”

And I said, “Baby, just remember
That the man upstairs can hear your lies.”
And he said, “Darling, I think the man upstairs
Will sympathize.”

He said he thinks God must’ve been a traveler,
Why else make the world so wide?
And drop him in Texas with a saddle
And the wild West in his eyes

But I think that God must have come from Texas
Why else make woman for a wife?
Except to say, “Baby, I don’t need no more
Of your goodbyes.”

He said he’d been strung up, up in Utah
Where he had no friends to call his own
And he had to leave his pretty baby
Back in Texas all alone

And if he believes that he’ll be back here
Then it’s easier for him to go
And I said, “Baby, you were long gone
long ago.”