Lyric Silver Dollar Forger

Swingin my sweet chariot low
Gotta make it home to georgia
Excise lawman on my trail
I m a silver dollar forger
I see a road block on my right
Engine take me through the night
Gotta make it home to the arms of my sweet baby.

Twenty miles from that georgia state
I can hear the sirens wailing
If only I can cross that line
And leave the police trailing
I see a red light at my rear
Now I m sweatin cold steel fear
Gotta make it home to the arms of my sweet baby.

I m tired of all this running
Hiding from the light
I want to walk out in the sun

I ll soon be home I can see the clay
I ll soon be in Atlanta
If only I can hold that line
I can live just how I want to
I see the state line in my lights
Engine take me through the night
Gotta make it home to the arms of my sweet baby.

(copyright 1974 mountain/carlin music)