The Old Days

(альбом: Bad Mutha Fucka - 2016)

I miss the old days, tall Chevrolets
Nice tanned up legs swinging on a tailgate
The old days, when fist fights were fine
Throwing hands didn't land you two months jail time
The old days, when love was real
And it burned in your soul like a moonshine still
The old days, those days are gone
So I cherish the memories of the place I call home, oh yeah

There's a bridge on River road where I painted my name
With a couple of buddies with John Deere spray paint
We used to smoke on the green after the Sun hit the hay
And made it home by nine or daddy's temper would blaze
In them high-school front doors, shit we was straight out the back
Sitting in a deer stand chewing Red Man up by the pack
Them straight pipes on the five seven made us feel badass
Sitting in the senior parking lot cranking to Johnny Cash
My grades, they wasn't great, but my heart is nothing but gold
Hospitality's priceless, it ain't bought, traded or sold
So before you judge my cover, won't you dive in my soul
And learn I'm from another life, I'm like 200 years old

I miss the old days, tall Chevrolets
Nice tanned up legs swinging on a tailgate
The old days, when fist fights were fine
Throwing hands didn't land you two months jail time
The old days, when love was real
And it burned in your soul like a moonshine still
The old days, those days are gone
So I cherish the memories of the place I call home, oh yeah

When I show up to a show, everybody knows I'm fucking there
Walk by like I'm stuck in silence, let the folks with cameras stare
I'm there to put my County on, with muddy water in my veins
Countless nights on Indian Springs, praying I would catch my dream
When pawpaw went to heaven, let me tell you, I was lost in life
Almost got fronted them pounds to help keep on my families lights
But then I walked to a church in the midst of the night
Put some tears on the tulips and the creation was bright
And I knew at that very moment the fight I's about to pick involved
Cowboy boots, guitars and not giving a shit
So let me ride to the beat of my two clicking Tony Lama's
Live in a trailer with my family and a few saved up dollars, Church

I miss the old days, tall Chevrolets
Nice tanned up legs swinging on a tailgate
The old days, when fist fights were fine
Throwing hands didn't land you two months jail time
The old days, when love was real
And it burned in your soul like a moonshine still
The old days, those days are gone
So I cherish the memories of the place I call home, oh yeah