It was my senior year
I just turned eighteen
I was a friday night hero, with division one dreams
I had an offer on the table
A four year ride
'Til that fourth and two and twenty four dive

I left on a stretcher, wound up on a crutch
Walked on that next summer
Wound up, getting cut
I flipped off that coach, left that school in the dust
For letting my dreams go bust
But I thank God I ain't what I almost was

Yeah, I moved on back home
And came awful close to being some son-in-law to some CEO
Could've been a corner office, country club, suit and tie man
Answering to no one, but her and him

I ran out on his money, ran out on her love
At four in the morning I loaded my truck
I left my home town in a big cloud of dust
I just had to follow my gut
And I thank God I ain't what I almost was

In guitar town I bought this old Epiphone
Started stringing chords and words into songs
I've been putting in time on Sixteenth Avenue
Pouring out my heart for tips on a stool

I ain't making a killing, but then there's those nights
When the song comes together and hits 'em just right
The crowds on their feet 'cause they can't get enough
Of this music I make and I love
And I thank God I ain't, yeah, I thank God I ain't
Then I thank God I ain't, what I almost was