[ Featuring WILLIAM MICHEAL MORGAN ]
Hey, sending this one out for all the Hag fans out there on the highway
You got that guitar, now, sounds good
Aw yeah, Aw come on with it little Willie
My hat don't hang on the same nail too long
My ears can't stand to hear the same old song
I don't leave the highway long enough to bog down in the mud
I've got ramblin' fever in my blood
Well, I caught this ramblin' fever long ago
Hell, when I first heard a lonesome whistle blow
And, if anyone ever said I ever gave a damn, the damn sure told you wrong
I've had ramblin' fever all along
Ramblin' fever
The kind that can't be measured by degrees
Ramblin' fever
There ain't no kind of cure for my disease
Sometimes I'd like to bed down on the sofa
And let some pretty lady rub my back
Aw yeah, spend the early morning drinking coffee
Talkin' about when I'll be coming back
I don't let no woman tie me down
I'll never get too old to get around
I want to die along the highway and rot away like some old high-line pole
Rest this ramblin' fever in my soul
Ramblin' fever
The kind that can't be measured by degrees
Ramblin' fever
There ain't no kind of cure for my disease
Put that hammer down, Tony, aw yeah
That's country music right there, buddy
Damn right, ole son
One more time
