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He fires up his engine, lets the highway call his name, Dust on his boots, but freedom’s runnin’ through his veins. From desert towns to neon lights under southern skies, He’s chasin’ every blues groove that money just can’t buy. He’s got a map full of dreams and a heart full of fire, Ridin’ miles just to feed that one sweet desire To find a little roadhouse where the blues men play, Where the guitar screams and the whole room sways. He walks right in, buys a whiskey for the band, Shakes off his worries with the bottle in his hand. Yeah, he’s a roadhouse blues rider on a midnight run, Living out the dream he’s been chasin’ since he was young. He stops in Mississippi where the legends learned to bleed, Notes on a Telecaster cut deeper than a creed. In New Orleans he’s laughing with the players in the night, Their stories warm his soul like a fire burnin’ bright. Every town holds a rhythm he’s been aching to feel, Every riff reminds him that the world can heal In a little roadhouse where the blues men play, Where the guitar screams and the whole room sways. He walks right in, buys a whiskey for the band, Shakes off his worries with the bottle in his hand. Yeah, he’s a roadhouse blues rider on a midnight run, Living out the dream he’s been chasin’ since he was young. Under smoky lights, he finds brothers in the sound, Men who sing their troubles but refuse to stay down. He raises up his glass to the ones who paved the way The kings of every dusty blues bar on the highway. Give him a little roadhouse where the blues men play, Where the guitar screams and the whole room sways. He’ll buy one more round for the stories they tell, For the riffs that saved him when he wasn’t doing well. Yeah, he’s a roadhouse blues rider ’til the ride is done, Chasing every note like a bullet from a gun