Here we are again, rolling down the highway, looking for a place to get a bite.
Radiators bust, we're running low on gasoline, we've got a feeling burning out tonight.
Gonna have our hands full, getting down tight, I think it's gonna be alright.
Everybody's waiting, looking down a pool of low -floor living.
Oh Lord, I don't know if I'm good.
I left my home folk down in Mississippi, told them I was gonna be a star.
Mama said, son, you'll be alright, it makes no matter who you are.
So I packed everything, I hacked up my name, put it in the back of my car.
And ever since then, I've been pulling low for the living.
I don't know if I'm good.
Sing it, Mama.
Oh no, I don't know if I'm good.
Sing it.
Oh no, I don't know if I'm good.
I made a long -distance call the other day, couldn't explain being home.
You should have heard what the phone people had to say, when I told them all I had was just a song.
I so never meant how long I was in for, said, son, it won't be long.
Just another day for the dollar that you owe me, baby.
Oh Lord, I don't know if I'm good.
Oh Lord, I wanna go home, yes I do now.
Oh Lord, I wanna go home.
Oh Lord, I wanna go home.
Oh Lord, I wanna go home.
