Girl, you taught me how to hurt real bad and cry myself to sleep;
you showed me how this town can shatter dreams. 
Another lesson 'bout a naive fool that came to Babylon,
and found out that the pie don't taste so sweet. 

Now it's guitars, Cadillacs, hillbilly music and lonely, lonely streets that I call home. 
Yeah, my guitars, Cadillacs, hillbilly music, is the only thing that keeps me hanging on. 
It's the only thing that keeps me hanging on, 
It's the only thing that keeps me hanging on. 

There ain't no glamour in this tinseled land of lost and wasted lives;
and painful scars are all that's left of me. 
But thank you, girl for teaching me brand new ways to be cruel. 
If I can find my mind, now I guess I'll just leave. 

And it's guitars, Cadillacs, hillbilly music and lonely, lonely streets that I call home. 
Yeah, my guitars, Cadillacs, hillbilly music, is the only thing that keeps me hanging on. 
It's the only thing that keeps me hanging on, 
It's the only thing that keeps me hanging on. 

Circa 1985
Words and Music by Dwight Yoakam
© Coal Dust West Music