IWell I wish I was drunk in havana

I wish I was at the mardi gras

I wish I had me two pretty ladies on a buckboard down on the south Georgia farm

Run,run,run were the coyotes roam

Never to return to the transit road

That's were they bury the american dead

That's were they bury the american dead

Well I wish I had one drop of liquor that runs like a river in the cotton wood hills

Making me forget the maggots, and the chiggers

I'd like to spend an evening with a moonshine still

Run,run,run, were the wild wind blows

Never to return to the transit road

I could drink a hatful of the tennessee rain

I could drink a hatful of the tennessee rain

Well I wish I was a helmsman on a clipper bound for the spanish main

Breathing fancy breezes

Gold jamaican sugar cane

Run,run, were the wild wind blows

Never to return to the transit road

I could drink a hatful of the tennessee rain

I could drink a hatful of the tennessee rain

shake it out

Run,run, were the wild wind blows

Never to return to the transit road

I could drink a hatful of the tennessee rain

I could drink a hatful of the tennessee rain