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The Breeze

Banditos


Wide-eyed, white lines
On down the road I slide
God willing and the creek don't rise
Well, I won't be home tonight
Hey, don't that breeze feel nice

I don't tell them where I'm going
No, I'm just gone

Tell your mama
You ain't never coming home
Go on and tell your papa
You ain't never coming home
Well, throw your dog a bone

You're flying high, babe
But you've got to [?] down
I'll pick you up mama
Set your feet back on the ground
Well, can't you hear that sound?

Don't tell them where we're going
No, we're just gone

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