Lyrics:
southbound on the roof of the world.
the outskirts of heaven
look good on her.
out the window coach class clouds.
trekking to texas,
a few
fly away
To the outskirts of heaven
I would still be chased
By Your mercy and goodness
Your love goes far
Your love goes far
Everyday
Everyday
Everyday
go
Lord when I die I wanna live
On the outskirts of Heaven
Where there's dirt roads for miles
Hay in the fields and fish in the river
Where
get my message
On the outskirts of heaven
I tried the priest
And
Now I'm trying the reverend out
I just been down and out
The smoking just weigh me down
Time is a highway
And the days roll by
And the night lasts forever
And I'll ride until I die
If I die tomorrow
Lay me to rest
On the outskirts
in at Saint Peter's Gate
I'm on the outskirts of heaven and it's gettin' a little shifty
It's gettin' warmer, but it ain't from the whiskey
Lord you
things last forever after all
FM station on the outskirts
Blue jeans after years of shift work
All fading out like I always knew they would
heat it up
Or trade it in
But then the radio to heaven will be wired to your purse
And you can run down the waveband
Coast-to-coast, hand in hand
But then the radio to heaven
Will be wired to your purse
Then you can run down the wave band
Coast to coast, hand in hand
Better or worse, curse
then the radio to heaven will be wired to your purse
And you can run down the waveband
Coast-to-coast, hand in hand
Bad to worse, curse for curse
Don't
a disco on the outskirts of Frisco
I was cruisin' with my favourite gang
The place was so borin' filled with out-of-towners tourin'
I knew that it wasn't
afternoon
But babe, I've gotta heal myself from the things I've never felt
Repression is my Heaven but I'd rather go through hell
It's 'bout time that I
on a Sunday afternoon
But babe, I've gotta heal myself from the things I've never felt
Repression is my Heaven but I'd rather go through hell
(If you're
a disco on the outskirts of Frisco
I was cruisin' with my favorite gang
The place was so borin', filled with out-of-towners tourin'
I knew that it wasn't
a disco on the outskirts of Frisco
I was cruisin' with my favourite gang
The place was so borin' filled with out-of-towners tourin'
I knew that it wasn't
a disco on the outskirts of Frisco
I was cruisin' with my favorite gang
The place was so borin', filled with out-of-towners tourin'
I knew that it wasn't
a disco on the outskirts of Frisco
I was cruisin' with my favourite gang
The place was so borin' filled with out-of-towners tourin'
I knew that it
a disco on the outskirts of Frisco
I was cruisin' with my favorite gang
The place was so borin', filled with out-of-towners tourin'
I knew that it wasn't
a disco on the outskirts of Frisco
I was cruisin' with my favourite gang
The place was so borin' filled with out-of-towners tourin'
I knew that it
heat it up
Or trade it in
But then the radio to heaven will be wired to your purse
And you can run down the waveband
Coast-to-coast, hand in hand
the walls could talk they tell
The stories reaching from heaven into Hell
And tonight a new story is made, in room 208
On the outskirts of Nashville
Tell me father are you riding on
The fictional bus up to heaven above?
Do you listen to the angels on the outskirts
Have they persuaded you?
Oh tell
a disco on the outskirts of Frisco
I was cruisin' with my favourite gang
The place was so borin' filled with out-of-towners tourin'
I knew that it wasn't
on your own?
How much time will we have?
An' will we manage to get home?
Those in the city go first
Then those on the outskirts
Twenty minutes then
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