F                                     Bb
I was born in the country and raised in the town
              F      C         Dm
I spent every Sunday wandering around
  F                                       Bb
I raised lots of cane till my momma would cry
              F                        Dm
She prayed my harvest would wither and die
Bb                    C          F
Wither and die, Lord, wither and die


[Chorus]
      Bb                                          F
These slow-going highways and red-running river I choose
    Bb                                        F
The song of a siren, the rhythm of nothing to lose
      C                             Bb                      F
Every step off the front porch is a step into rocking chair blues


[Verse 2]
  F                                   Bb
I went down to Oxford to find me some blues
              F        C           Dm
I measure the miles by holes in my shoes
   F                                 Bb
I listen for autumn and followed the sound
              F                          Dm
And left off the things that fell to the ground
Bb                        C           F
Fell to the ground, Lord, fell to the ground


[Chorus]
      Bb                                          F
These slow-going highways and red-running river I choose
    Bb                                        F
The song of a siren, the rhythm of nothing to lose
      C                             Bb                      F
Every step off the front porch is a step into rocking chair blues

[Instrumental]

[Verse 3]
Gm7                                  F
If I wandered away would you call me back?
        G          C
'Cause I'm already gone
Gm                                  G       Cm
I'm drifting astray and humming the highway song
      F                                     Bb
I was born in the country and raised in the town
              F      C         Dm
I spent every Sunday wandering around
Bb                      C         F
Wandering around, Lord, wandering around