Well I wish I was [bad word] 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 [bad [bad word] 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 [bad word] 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 [bad [bad word] 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 [bad [bad word]  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 [bad [bad word]  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