v.1
^DThis ol' highway she's hotter than ^Gnine kinds of hell
The ^Arides are as scarce as the ^Drain^[A]
When you're ^Ddown to your last shuck with ^Gnothin' to sell
And ^Atoo far away from the ^Dtrain

v.2
Been a good month of Sundays and a guitar ago
I had a tall drink of yesterday's wine
Left a long string of friends, some sheets in the wind
And some satisfied women behind

Chorus:
Ride me down easy, Lord, ride me on down
Leave word in the dust where I lay
Cause it's easy come, and it's easy go
And easy to love when I stay

Instr. Brk.

v.3
I put snow on the mountains, raised hell in the hills
Locked horns with the Devil himself
I been a rodeo bum, a son of a gun
And a hobo with stars in his crown

Rpt. Ch.