Way Out – Ray Fulcher

There’s a two-lane in, no good way out
Of a no dot, cotton field, touchdown, Jesus town
With that white board, two-story porch wraparound
Way out

Where granddaddy came back in ’38
For a concrete job, a couple bucks at the bank
And found a piece of land on some dark red clay
Way out

Where we get way out
Head it off the highway, straight out
Where a back road runs a Texaco tank out
Grew up rearview dusting it
Halfway cussing it
Covered in mud in it
Way out
Where the stars get you a second-base make out
Where the lightning in a Mason gets drank out
Then the second you leave in that 150
You wonder why you’d ever want a way out

You oughta see that sunset, hear the choir loft sing
Feel that momma’s house, mid-June fescue under your feet
Yeah, that greener shade of green
Way out

Kids run through the sprinklers, dream of being Springsteen
Can’t help but get into everything
They raise a little too much hell
Spend a few hours in a cell
Daddy comes to the city jail
Makes bail and pays their

Way out
Head it off the highway, straight out
Where a back road runs a Texaco tank out
Grew up rearview dusting it
Halfway cussing it
Covered in mud in it
Way out
Where the stars get you a second-base make out
Where the lightning in a Mason gets drank out
Then the second you leave in that 150
You wonder why you’d ever want a way out

Why would I ever want a way out

There’s no place like home
When it’s my time to go
All an ol’ boy can hope
Is that they lay me down underneath an old white oak

Somewhere way out
Head it off the highway, straight out
Where a back road runs a Texaco tank out
Grew up rearview dusting it
Halfway cussing it
Covered in mud in it
Way out
Where the stars get you a second-base make out
Where the lightning in a Mason gets drank out
Then the second you leave in that 150
You wonder why you’d ever want a way out
Yeah, why would I ever want a way out
Yeah