I've gave them the slip
And the please don't call
If you got a number
scratch it off my wall
Took my Rio to Georgia
Georgia to Ouachita
Heard a hundred voices
Yours loudest of them all
Held my soul in St Francois
Those gentle mountain roams
Seen the meaning there
But could not bare it home
Hold myself here any longer
I will never feel the same
Just a two bit wanderer
A face without a name
Jul 8, 2024
Jul 8, 2024 at 2:38 PM UTC
I've gave them the slip
And the please don't call
If you got a number
scratch it off my wall
Took my Rio to Georgia
Georgia to Ouachita
Heard a hundred voices
Yours loudest of them all
Held my soul in St Francois
Those gentle mountain roams
Seen the meaning there
But could not bare it home
Hold myself here any longer
I will never feel the same
Just a two bit wanderer
A face without a name
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