Zac Brown Band

I ride east every other Friday but if I had it my way
Days would not be wasted on this drive
And I want so bad to hold you
Some of the things I haven't told you
Your mom and me just couldn't get along
So I'll drive
And I'll think about my life
And wonder why, I'll slowly die inside
Everytime I turn that truck around, right at the Georgia line and
I count the days and the miles back home to you on that Highway 20 ride
A day might come and you'll realize that if you could see through my eyes
There was no other way to work it out
And a part of you might hate me
But son please don?t mistake me For a man that didnt care at all