Riding down the highway, south on forty-nine
that cornbread's in the oven, hope I make it home in time
Flying down the highway, I'm smoking like a train
I'm not sure if I'll make it now, I'm broke down in the rain
Because I'm all out of gas, I'm all out of food
that cornbread sounded really good
I can't ever win, I'm bound to lose
I never shoulda bought a Ford,
Found on the roadside blues
Rolling down the highway, I heard that motor blow
and someone in the fast lane ran me off the road
Sitting on that highway, about to go insane
I stepped into a flatbed and it barely missed my brain
Because I'm all out of gas, I'm all out of food
that cornbread sounded really good
I can't ever win, I'm bound to lose
I never shoulda bought a Ford,
Found on the roadside blues
I get up off the asphault, when I awoke
I had a .44 pistol pointed at my nose
I grabbed that fella's pistol, and then I stole his dough
I hopped in his flatbed and I hauled it down the road
Because I'm all out of gas, I'm all out of food
that cornbread sounded really good
I can't ever win, I'm bound to lose
I never shoulda bought a Ford,
Found on the roadside blues
Because I'm all out of gas, I'm all out of food
that cornbread sounded really good
I can't ever win, I'm bound to lose
I saw blue lights, I grabbed my shoes
I turned around, headed to town
That cornbread cured my roadside blues
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