Only Passing Through
I was sittin' in a bar room, sippin' on a beer.It was my first and last time there, so I raised my glass in cheer.
In walked a young beauty with blonde hair and eyes of blue.
I thought to myself it's such a shame, I was only passing through.
Passing through, I can't hang around.
Passing through, I don't know where I'm bound.
I'll just keep on moving where the wind may blow.
I'm just passing through, always on the go.
I needed a few dollars just to get me on my way
Enough to feed my belly and to gas my Chevrolet.
A man gave me some work he needed someone to do.
He said when I finished," it's a shame you're passing through".
Passing through, I can't hang around.
Passing through, I don't know where I'm bound.
I'll just keep on moving where the wind may blow.
I'm just passing through, always on the go.
I've always been a drifter, a gypsy from the start.
I suppose that I was born with this vagabond heart.
I'll never hurt a soul, my word is always true.
It's just that this is your world, I'm only passing through.
Passing through, I can't hang around.
Passing through, I don't know where I'm bound.
I'll just keep on moving where the wind may blow.
I'm just passing through, always on the go.
©Bob Simpson, All rights reserved
Poetry by JustBob
Read 491 times
Written on 2015-03-24 at 19:55
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