Jeff Daniels - Roadsigns

^AmTwo 5 year olds are fighting a gun ^Gbattle in the aisle. Their ^Fmaj7mother’s been talkin’ about ^Grefrigerators for 50 miles. ^Fmaj7Retired ^Gbartender showing ^Cphot^C/Bos of his ^Ambar. ^EmThe black girl’s wailing and bending our ears to the ^Amtop ten tunes for the past ten years. She’s ^Fmaj7going to Detroit to be a ^Gstar. She said, “^AmMe and my ^Gsister, ^Fmaj7strut our stuff. ^{G Am Am}Those Motown ^Gjivers they got ^Fmaj7nothing on us.” I was singin^Gg ^Ammy my my ^Gmy my my ^Fmaj7my.

^AmThe driver’s telling his life story to a ^Gsympathetic aunt. He’d like to ^Fmajconcentrate on the highway if he ^Gcan, but he can’t. The ^Fmaj7grandma says “I was ^Gmarried when I was ^Cjust ^C/Bfifte^Amen.” The ^Emboney recruit for Fort Leonard Wood, for ^Amthree hours straight’s been doing all he could to ^Fmaj7make a roly-poly bleach blonde named Arl^Gene. He said, “^AmI’ll write to you if y^Gou’ll write to me,” and then their ^Fmaj7hands disappeared past Kankakee. ^{G Am} From the ^Amflailing around he was ^Gfinally getting off, ^Fmaj7I trust. I was sayin^Gg ^Ammy my my ^Gmy my my ^Fmaj7my.

The ^Ccountry slips ^Emby the ^Fmaj7window. ^GMisty morning will ^Fmaj7burn off by 8 o’^Cclock. The ^Amthrashers are thrashing and them ^Greapers are reaping. ^Fmaj7Behind this blue-green glass we’re sleeping past the ^Amcedars and houses and rivers and trailers and ^Fmaj7rock.

And does ^Ameverybody ^Cknow what’s ^Ggoing down when you ^Cleave the ^Gdriving to ^AmGreyhound? ^AmOur path is littered with lost street treads, ^Fmaj7abandoned houses and old iron beds. ^AmAmber waves of golden rye, ^Fmaj7mobile homes and lumberyards. ^CTent worms eating ^Emup the trees and the ^Ammotels with no ^Gvacancies. ^Fmaj7Factories making candy bars by the ^Ammile-high piles of rusty cars. ^CNo sign pointing ^Emthe direction, ^Amsnorting up our ^Gnose confection. ^Fmaj7Smokestacks are the land’s erection and the ^Amvoters just ignore elections. ^CPumping gas at every ^Emintersection, ^Ampraying for our ^Gnext Tex-Mex ^Fmaj7connection.^G

The ^Ccountry slides ^Emby the ^Fmaj7window. ^GSun dies ^Fmaj7screaming purple and ^Cgold. The ^Amchimneys are stinking and the ^Gtowns are blinking. ^Fmaj7Inside this bus there ain’t nobody thinking about the ^Amsigns of caution: go slow, r^Fmaj7adar patrol.

And does ^Ameverybody ^Cknow what’s ^Ggoing down, when you ^Cleave the ^Gdriving to ^AmGreyhound? ^AmOh that preacher right behind me, he’s got a ^Gbottle in his hand, and he’s ^Fmaj7mumbling how all them roadsigns all point ^Gstraight to the promise land. Through a ^Fmaj7diesel high, and a ^Gneon buzz, we ^Cchase that ^C/Bsetting ^Amsun. And that ^Emblack chick starts to sing so sweet. Her ^Amsister starts to tap her feet. ^Fmaj7Preacher nods his head, starts to ^Ghum. ^AmGrandma grins and the ^Gdriver smiles, and we ^Fmaj7all sing along for the next 10 ^Gmiles. ^AmGuess we’re going ^Gsomewheres if we ^Fmaj7must.

We were singin^Gg ^Ammy my my ^Gmy my my ^Fmaj7my. (x4) Yeah, we were singing ^Ammy my my ^Gmy my my ^Fmaj7my. (x3)

^C And does ^Ameverybody ^Cknow what’s ^Ggoing down, when you ^Cleave the ^Gdriving to ^AmGreyhound?