My name is Jackson Rose and I come from Duluth
I made it to Savannah when I was a youth
I was weary and lonesome from mending this broken heart
Like most wayward men there was a woman to blame
For my travels, my drinking, for hiding my shame
In a one-room apartment in this goddamn dirty town
I got a job hauling freight out to Macon and back
Cutting through them back roads and sneaking sips of Jack
With George Jones singing and that woman weighing on my mind
I stopped into a bar out of Jeffersonville
I got to talking with a man who put my drinks on his bill
Just like me a broken heart had taken him a thousand miles
He said at twenty-two years you've got nothing to fear
You pack up all your bags and then you hit the next town
Boy, you got no troubles that that road can't cure
Sometimes I stay out drinking till late in the night
Till them neon lights and sirens all start to die
And the stained-glass saints all stare from their church house doors
But I can't see the stars for the lights from the bars
And that woman still has a hold of my heart
In this city full of souls hell I've never felt more alone
But at twenty-two years I've got nothing to fear
I'll pack up all my bags and then I'll hit the next town
Cause I got no troubles that that road can't cure
Let it lead where it may even if it's on back to her
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