Lyrics

Some Kind of ghost keeps singing nights outside my door
I think he's come to drag me out into the void
It takes all my time just keeping him at bay
I never got on too well with others anyway

Now this town just seems to grate on me you know
With all this road there must be places I could go
I think I'll pack my things and move out to the sticks
Maybe it's not too late for me to be a hick
I can see that sweet country

I've spent a fortune on dilapidated cars
Just to get me down the streets and into the bars
Boy I looked good I'd roll up with such style
But my exits weren't so smooth after awhile

Now this town just seems to grate on me you know
With all this road there must be places I could go
I think I'll pack my things and move out to the sticks
Maybe it's not too late for me to be a hick
I can see that sweet country

Rolled out flat for miles
No one to bother me just the sun to clock the hours
And a dizzy smile to wear

Now this town just seems to grate on me you know
With all this road there must be places I could go
I think I'll pack my things and move out to the sticks
Maybe it's not too late for me to be a hick
I can see that sweet country