These roads stretch a thousand miles in every way, I look for the day, as we ride over the hill, I am blind. The golden state has been my home, but I place my stake to roam and to rake, the good souls we met, will teach me yet, what course to take. Good friends remain even through the pain of a long road ahead. The forty eight, we've seen so well, for three short years, we worked like hell. I've been here before, laying on your floor, it was good to me. Good friends remain even through the strain of a long road ahead.