Well, I wish I was drunk in Havana I wish I was at the Mardi gras I wish I had me two pretty ladies On a Buckboard, down on the South Georgia farm Run, run, run where the coyotes roam Never to return to the transit road That's were they bury the American dead That's were they bury the American dead Well, I wish I had one drop of liquor that Runs like a river in the cotton wood hills Making me forget the maggots and the chiggers I'd like to spend an evening with a moonshine still Run, run, run, where the wild wind blows Never to return to the transit road I could drink a hatful of the Tennessee rain I could drink a hatful of the Tennessee rain Well, I wish I was a helmsman on a clipper bound for the Spanish main Breathing fancy breezes Gold Jamaican sugar cane Run, run, where the wild wind blows Never to return to the transit road I could drink a hatful of the Tennessee rain I could drink a hatful of the Tennessee rain Shake it out Run, run, run where the wild wind blows Never to return to the transit road I could drink a hatful of the Tennessee rain I could drink a hatful of the Tennessee rain