Some wind up in the hall of fame,
some go down in the blaze of glory,
some people never ever make a name,
but change the game in someone's story.
I'm still trying to leave my mark
with a simple song and an old guitar.
One thing I've learned out on the road is nobody is nobody.
Sun goes up, sun goes down,
takes all kinds of kinds and make this world go around.
Everybody's somebody,
someone,
a sinner,
a sinner,
son of a gun.
Nobody's nobody.
No, no, nobody.
No, no,
nobody.
No, no.
Nobody's nobody.
Someone's out filling the tank,
keeping the good years on the road,
but someone's filling up their drink,
forgetting someone they can't let go.
Some lovers leave their mark with a
pocketknife and an old tree heart.
However you come,
however you go,
nobody is nobody.
Sun goes up, sun goes down,
takes all kinds of kinds and make this world go around.
Everybody's somebody, someone,
a sinner, a sinner, son of a gun.
Nobody's nobody.
No,
no, nobody.
No, no, nobody.
No, no.
Nobody's nobody.
Sun goes up,
sun goes down,
takes all kinds of kinds and make this world go around.
Everybody's somebody, someone,
a sinner, a sinner, son of a gun.
Nobody's nobody.
No, no,
nobody.
No, no, nobody.
No, no.
nobody's nobody.