Hit the blacktop headin’ out of town, that Indiana line

At the wheel and I was feeling something close to feelin’ fine

Digging ditches up in Dayton, pilin’ up on top of me

Now I’m cuttin’ loose that old caboose and dustin’ off my knees

Took a drive on up to 40, hung a left right through the night

Found the sun in Amarillo, I must be an awful sight

Counting them beans in Birmingham, I was numbering the days

Hear the Western Slope a-calling, guess I’d best be on my way

CHORUS

(‘Cause) it’s a Snowdown kind of throwdown, an El Rancho kind of night

Tomorrow’s still the future, and the future’s looking bright

It takes more than one to tango, only three to make a crowd

Another weekend (Stillhouse Squared is) in Durango and you know it’s getting loud

Flipped a coin in Sacramento, heads and tails came up the same

Hopped the California Zephyr, forty dollars to my name

Pounding sand in San Andreas had me bent under the load

Punched a ticket up to Junction and another down the road

Rode the Dog from old Milwaukee out across the Western plain

Half a week without the High Life it can drive a man insane

Buckin’ pine in Eagle River, missed the forest for the trees

That ol’ Colorado Kool-Aid’s just the medicine I need