Songtext von Riding Through

All my life I never had a home Back and forth Across the land I would go You could see me riding through The heat of Atlanta West Tennessee or Southern Indiana I’m riding through Oh, I’m riding through Yeah, I’m going through I’m riding through Arkansas or West Mississippi Playing all these shows With the blood on my fingers Will they remember? Or will they forget? Either way I’m riding through Pop in that Segar cassette Riding through Turn it up Turn up the rock and roll, yeah My home is my soul My soul is the music I play it for people Hoping they won’t refuse it Different countries, different stages Different room full of fans I’m riding through with the guitar Strapped to the top of the van