Guess I knew it all along
I'd have to come back home
'Cause this living on the road
Only makes me tired and sore
Like a bird without a nest
Like a stranger in the night
And my soul cries out for rest
And the end is not in sight
Tastes like sweet magnolia wine
Honey dripping from your mouth
And that sweet little gal of mine
She's the finest in the south
Now the day's are gettin' longer
And the nights are gettin' colder
I just want to come back home
Lay my head down on your shoulder
Guess I knew it all along
I'd have to come back home
'Cause this living on the road
Only makes me tired and sore
Like a bird without a nest
Like a stranger in the night
And my soul cries out for rest
And the end is not in sight

Copyright: Songtrust Ave, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): RUSSELL SMITH