Tom: F
F F F
Oh I knew it all along, I'd have to come back home
F F
F
Because this living on the road only makes me tired and so
F Am F F
Like a bird without a nest, like and stranger in the night
F F F
My soul cries out for rest and the end is not in sight
Break
F F
F
Tastes like sweet magnolia wine, honey dripping from her mouth
F F
F
Oh that sweet little gal of mine, she's the finest in the south
F Am F F
Now the days are getting longer, nights are getting colder
F F
F
I just want to go back home and lay my head upon her shoulder
Break
F F F
Oh I knew it all along, I'd have to come back home
F F
F
Because this living on the road only makes me tired and so
F Am F F
Like a bird without a nest, like and stranger in the night
F F F
My soul cries out for rest and the end is not in sight
