Dandelions that grow along the highway,
Silver gray they blow away like foam.
Trucks roll by and make the blackbirds fly away.
Seems like there ain't no goin' home.
Spent what I had in Phenix City.
Nothin' in my pocket but my comb.
The way I look this morning ain't so pretty.
It seems like there ain't no goin' home.
Oh, it seems like there ain't no goin' home.
Over on the hill I see a farmer,
Workin' in his field behind a mule.
There'll be smoke from the chimney of his cabin,
In the evening when the air is turning cool;
And a woman cookin' supper in the kitchen.
That's not for me, you see my freedom's all I own.
Here and there I get my share of lovin',
But it seems like there ain't no goin' home.
Yeah, it seems like there ain't no goin' home.
