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   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      Yea, I moved on back home   And came awful close to being some son-in-law to some CEO   Coulda been a corner office, country club, suit and tie man   Answerin' 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 stringin' 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 theres those nights   When the song comes together and hits them 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, yea I thank God I ain't,   Yea I thank God I ain't, what I almost was