Gasoline Alley Bred

(Album: The Hollies At Abbey Road 1966-1970 - 1998)

Oh woman get your head out of curlers,
Time to get your butt out of bed!
Get down your hats and your baggage my child,
Going back home getting back to the homestead.

I'm-a gonna heat me some water,
Put a shine upon my shoes.
Telephone my mac keep the room above Joe's,
'cause we're coming back, coming back to the homestead.
Ev'rything is packed getting back to the homestead.
This time, this time we'll stay baby.

I know that we could have made it,
We had ideas in our heads.
And I wish somehow we could have saved it,
But we're Gasoline Alley bred.
Yet the years havn't really been wasted,
And I know it in my head.
We did good for the life that we tasted,
'cause we're Gasoline Alley
Gasoline Alley bred!

Woman did you really believe it,
I did ev'rything a man could do.
Breaking my back just to make us a dime.
That don't mean a thing when noone wants to know you.
Oh, woman I know how you're feeling,
I've seen the hurt upon your face.
How many times do you think that I've cried,
Knowing ev'ry day your heart was getting broken,
Holding back your pride 'till you were nearly chocking;
Oooh let's get away baby.

I know that we could have made it,
We had ideas in our heads.
And I wish somehow we could have saved it
But we're Gasoline Alley bred.
Yet the years havn't really been wasted
And I know it in my head.
We did good for the life that we tasted,
'cause we're Gasoline Alley
Gasoline Alley bred!
(Gasoline alley...)

Gasoline Alley bred!
(Gasoline alley...)

Gasoline Alley bred!
(Gasoline alley...)

Gasoline Alley bred!