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I saw the ghost of Hank Williams this mornin’ on sixteenth avenue
Selling homeless papers on the corner for a dollar
Beneath the statue of the muse

And I said, Hank, have you come back to haunt or save?
He said, I been rolling, rolling, rolling in my grave
I’m tired of rolling in my grave

He said, Sometimes I’ll walk along these streets alone for hours
With a guitar in my hand
I rattle doors and press my face against the windows
Nobody lets me in

And I said, Hank, have you come back to haunt or save?
He said, I been rolling, rolling, rolling in my grave
I’m tired of rolling in my grave

He said, “Son, it looks like you’ve worn the soles clear out your boots
Trying to walk that long hard road so far from your roots,
Don’t you ever be ashamed of a lonesome song with three chords and the truth
And I paid him for the paper with some change
And he shook my hand as it began to rain

And I said, Hank, have you come back to haunt or save?
He said, I been rolling, rolling, rolling in my grave
I’m tired of rolling in my grave

I saw the ghost of Hank Williams this mornin’ on sixteenth avenue
Selling homeless papers on the corner for a dollar
Beneath the statue of the muse

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