(R. Taylor/Garth Brooks)



This ol' highway's getting longer

Seems there ain't no end in sight

To sleep would be best, but I just can't afford to rest

I've got to ride in Denver tomorrow night



I called the house but no one answered

For the last two weeks no one's been home

I guess she's through with me, to tell the truth I just can't see

What's kept the woman holding on this long



CHORUS

And the white line's getting longer and the saddle's getting cold

I'm much too young to feel this damn old

All my cards are on the table with no ace left in the hole

I'm much too young to feel this damn old



The competition's getting younger

Tougher broncs, you know I can't recall

The worn out tape of Chris LeDoux, lonely women and bad booze

Seem to be the only friends I've left at all



CHORUS



Lord, I'm much too young to feel this damn old

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