Hey, glad to see you, buddy.Yeah.You got a tune up there?I got a singing welcome for you.There, I've tuned up.Ramblin' Jack, Ramblin' Jack,I sure am glad that you could ramble back.Well, my boots are dusty and my head's a mess.I just flew in from the west.Well, I was talking about you and somebody said,I believe Ramblin' Jack's dead.Well, that somebody must have been crazy as hell,because you'd be the first guy I'd tell.Hey, strap yourself in the gear of Gee Bubbaand sing a song with me.Take me home.My heart is heavy and my feet are sore.Take me home.I don't want no trouble.Sing it, Jack.Well, I've been from Boston to L.A.,seen Boulder *** and Frisco Bay,New York City and Washington,seen Montreal, Saskatchewan,and Rhode Island.And I worked in three all-night service stationsand I drove a truck.Why don't you take me home?My heart is heavy and my feet are sore.Take me home.I don't want to roam no more.Well, I slept all night in a water trough,had the flu and the croup and the whooping cough.I had the mumps and the measles, seven-year-age,and I can't count the times that I had a coldand a sore throat.Not to mention every time that I cut my fingeron a sardine can.Did you do that, too?Why don't you take me home?My heart is heavy and my feet are sore.Take me home.I don't want to roam no more.Sing it, Johnny.Well, I can see them all now just a-gatherin' roundMama's supper table when the sun goes down.And my good old Pappy, when the blessing saidfillin' up his plate with black-eyed peasand all that stuff.Just a side of mint.And the great big helpin' of my dear sweet mama'shot-buttered cornbread.Why don't you take me home?My heart is heavy and my feet are sore.Take me home.I don't want to roam no more.I don't want to roam no more.I don't want to roam no more.