Like so many spent shell cases What was a fresh 12 pack of beer Well I end up neatly facing me like a jury of my peers Screaming guilty, guilty, guilty boy Your time has come and come We're not sure that you wasted it like the squander did all wrong
That's what they say A hell, I slept right through the news But I've been willing to wager all I have That the world still got the blues So I'll sit here in this farmhouse And re-write dusty trails And knock one back From that bottle of Jack And watch the outlaw Jonesy Wade
‘Cause there's wisdom in those old movies Beauty in them old songs And there's a rhythm in the wind my friend That I should be moving along
But I got a little gal down dead rock way Stops by from time to time No clue what she's thinkin But I know what's on her mind
That's what they say A hell, I slept right through the news But I've been willing to wager all I have That the world still got the blues So I'll sit here in this barroom And re-tell dusty tales And knock one back From that bottle of Jack And quote the outlaw Jonesy Wade Endeavored a persevere
Well it might have been the rain And it might've been the wind It might've been neon signs that drew me in And it might have been the jukebox Got me thinking of you Ain't it amazing what a song can do?
Now I sit in this barroom and stare at these bottles About at the end of my rope Just when I thought I had drowned all my sorrows Old memories when we learn how to float
Closure is a word best left for the stars If you ever really cared about something It ain't ever gonna leave me alone If you hit it down the lost highway You're up that glory trail Keep on in that direction and you'll get there without fair
That's what they say A hell, I slept right through the news But I've been willing to wager all I have That the world still got the blues So I'll sit here in this barroom And re-tell dusty tales And knock one back From that bottle of Jack And quote the outlaw Jonesy Wade
That ain't much of a living, boy No a hard man to track Leaves dead men wherever he goes You gonna pull them pistols or whistle Dixie? And my own personal favorite Get ready grandma, hell is coming to breakfastTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
