Only time I see my friends
Is on the posters in the bar room wall
Only time I hear their voice
Is in a drunken late-night hotel call

See you're out in Houston
I'm giggin' in L.A.
Maybe we'll cross paths
One of these days

This business breaks your heart
It's a big old mean machine
It'll grind your bones to make your bread and then piss all over your dreams
That ain't why we do this
If it was we wouldn't last long
No, we're all hooked on the power of a song

May our beds be soft
Coffee strong and hot
May the angels of the blacktop
Keep our souls from getting lost
If there's a patron saint of troubadours
On the road from here to there
Watch over us
That's my three-chord poet's prayer

It's gonna be some real hard nights
And some holes in the wall
The next night you'll be on top of the world
The next morning you might fall

Things we miss back home
Are never lost on me
Kids growing up, funerals, anniversaries

I didn't choose this life
This travelin' life chose me
I was born to be a gypsy
So that's what I'll always be

Have a good next show
Keep it between the lines
Know you're always in my heart and on my mind

May our beds be soft
Coffee strong and hot
May the angels of the blacktop
Keep our souls from getting lost
If there's a patron saint of troubadours
On the road from here to there
Watch over us
That's my three-chord poet's prayer
Watch over my friends
That's my three-chord poet's prayer

Copyright: OLE MEDIA MANAGEMENT LP
Writer(s): Buddy Owen, Erin Enderlin, Sunny Sweeney