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..