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I caught you with him On them damp, slick, sticky, satin sheets Then I packed my things and then I hit the streets (Chorus) 87 southbound, to San Anton' You got your baby, I got no home The pavements burnin', at a hundred and two I don't need to hear no more excuses, but I don't need you Lord the sun keeps beatin' me down, and it's hotter'n hell And if I'm a lucky I'll catch a ride, but you can't never tell I'd rather be here with the bugs and flies, then back there hearin' your alibis I heard all that I'm gonna hear you say, I gonna take my pride and go the other way 87 southbound, to San Anton' It's getting late out, I'm forty miles from home The rain keeps a fallin', like the tears of my eyes Just tryin' to wash away the hurt from all your lies (yeah daddy) And lightnin' streaks across the evenin' sky And if I'm a lucky (it'll make you?) laid right down and die I know when the morning comes, I'll still be a walking son-of-a-gun When afternoon comes rolls around, I'll have ten more miles and one more town (Repeat Chorus) No I don't need to hear no more excuses, but I don't love you From Letras Mania