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 Could of 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 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, yea I thank God I ain't, Man I thank God I ain't, what I almost was