None of my possessions
Could cure my ailing life
Not my sixteen bedrooms
Not my modelpretty wife
I got a fancy car
And drove it far away
Drove right to the edge of
The good ole USA
No matter where I go
Buddy, there I am
Geography can’t help me
Cuz I don’t give a damn
I’m gonna get a shovel
And dig a giant hole
If I don’t find a remedy
To cure my aching soul
Sometimes I wish my daddy
Had beat me as a kid
Then I’d have a reason
For all the things I did
Deep down I feel guilty
Just for sucking wind
Maybe I was born with
Insufficient skin
No matter where I go
Buddy, there I am
Geography can’t help me
Cuz I don’t give a damn
I’m gonna get a shovel
And dig a giant hole
If I don’t find a remedy
To cure my aching soul
by Richard W. Bray
Tags: angst, country music, Country Music Lyrics, frustration, lyrics, mental illness