Ghost Of Travelin' Jones - Ryan Bingham

An empty sack of dust or just a box of bones

Well, call me what you will, son

My name’s Travelin' Jones

And I search for the fire

Stumbled upon with a precious desire

Travelin' Jones, well, have you seen the miles?

Have you smelled the whiskey and the smoke

Burnin' out underneath your tires?

Well, Travelin' Jones, you’re the Travelin' Jones

Well, tell me the secrets of an endless road

It’s not where you’ve been, son

It’s what you understand

Do you know the right from wrong

Tell me boy, are you an honest man?

Have you ever felt the fire

Stumbled upon with precious desire?

Have your fingers bled, boy off sin’s strings

Tied to that wooden box

That you’re playin' across your knee?

Have you ever felt the fire

Stumbled upon with a precious desire?

Travelin' Jones, well, I’ve seen the miles

I’ve played in every honky tonk bar

Yeah, behind that chicken wire

Well, Travelin' Jones, you’re the Travelin' Jones

Tell me the secrets of an endless road

An empty sack of dust or just a box of bones

Call me what you will, son

My name’s Travelin' Jones and I found the fire