Something 'bout the wrinkle in your forehead tells me there's a fit about to get thrown.
If we get the van out of the ditch before morning, ain't nobody got to know 'bout what I done.
And I never hear a single word you say when you tell me not to have my fun.
It's the same old shit that I ain't gonna take off anyone.
And I don't need to be forgiven
by them people in the neighborhood.
When we first hooked up, you looked me in the eye
and you said "Pa, we just ain't no good."
We were heathens in their eyes at the time,
I guess I'm just a heathen still.
And I never have repented for the wrongs you say I've done,
done what I feel.
Was a difficult delivery, now it's growing up mean and strong.
When you tell me that it's getting just a little bit tight, ain't the first time I been outgrown.
And I'm gonna push a little harder, she ain't revved till the rods are thrown.
I'll walk away.
And I don't need to be forsaken
by you or anybody else.
And I never had a shortage of people tryin' to warn me
'bout the dangers I pose to myself.
These times can take their toll sometimes and I know you feel the same way too.
It just gets so hard to keep between the ditches when the roads wind the way they do.