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Well I wish I was drunk in havanaI wish I was at the mardi grasI wish I had me two pretty ladies on a buckboard down on the south Georgia farmRun,run,run were the coyotes roamNever to return to the transit roadThat's were they bury the american deadThat's were they bury the american deadWell I wish I had one drop of liquor that runs like a river in the cotton wood hillsMaking me forget the maggots, and the chiggersI'd like to spend an evening with a moonshine stillRun,run,run, were the wild wind blowsNever to return to the transit roadI could drink a hatful of the tennessee rainI could drink a hatful of the tennessee rainWell I wish I was a helmsman on a clipper bound for the spanish mainBreathing fancy breezesGold jamaican sugar caneRun,run, were the wild wind blowsNever to return to the transit roadI could drink a hatful of the tennessee rainI could drink a hatful of the tennessee rainshake it outRun,run, were the wild wind blowsNever to return to the transit roadI could drink a hatful of the tennessee rainI could drink a hatful of the tennessee rain From Letras Mania