Dead Man's Hand

Oh, on that wide open highway
Oh, on that wide open highway
Oh, on that wide open highway
Hung my troubles in the wind
Oh, on that wide open highway
The life that I’m livin' is a dead man’s hand
Flag waving, hell raising, whiskey drinking son-of-a-bitch
I’m a Waylon playing, finger waving, stomp your ass right in the ditch (Come on)
Twelve-pack, rack with a gauge, bumper-sticker tailgate
Says goddamn right I’m American made (Let's go)
Earned what I got ain’t nothing you can say (Come on)
Outlaw, livin' on the stage, 'nother hotel, 'nother city and state (What)
Renegade, with a road to pave, rest when I’m dead, sleep in my grave
Oh, on that wide open highway
Hung my troubles in the wind
Oh, on that wide open highway
The life that I’m livin' is a dead man’s hand
Feel the thunder on the pavement, I’m smokin' down the road
I hear that old saying, well he’s after my soul
I put my past and fear to rest, I left them all behind
Like the ashes from my cigarette as they blow into the night
Oh, on that wide open highway
Hung my troubles in the wind
Oh, on that wide open highway
The life that I’m livin' is a dead man’s hand
Oh-oh-oh-ohohohoh
Oh-oh-oh-ohoh
Oh-oh-oh-ohohohoh
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh, on that wide open highway
Hung my troubles in the wind
Oh, on that wide open highway
The life that I’m livin' is a dead man’s hand
Oh, on that wide open highway
Hung my troubles in the wind
Oh, on that wide open highway
The life that I’m livin' is a dead man’s hand