1. |
Whiskey on the Floor
03:14
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It’s early Sunday evening
And I just got back from church
I’m sitting up in my armchair
Thinking about the good lord’s word
Then I poured me a glass of whiskey
And set out to drinking in his name
Put the bottle on the table
And then I went back to doing my thing
Well the shadows are getting longer
And the night is setting in
I’m getting ready to pour me another drink
Before my new week begins
I had my bottle and my glass on the table
Next to my Marlboro’s and my forty four
And when I kicked up my feet
I kicked my whiskey bottle on the floor
Well everybody knows
That the liquor stores are closed
At this time of night
On a Sunday!
What’s a man to do
When he’s lost all his booze.
Gone and lost my booze
When I kicked up my feet
I kicked my whiskey bottle on the floor
Well my old lady,
She was none too pleased
When She got back from playing bingo
And that bottle was in pieces
On the living room floor
And all the whiskey was gone
She hit me with a right hook
And she turned and walked right out the door
Oh lord it ain’t right
That I can’t get no more booze tonight
Now my woman’s done and left me
And my carpet drank my whiskey
And I don’t know what else could go wrong
What else could go wrong
When I kicked up my feet
I kicked my whiskey bottle on the floor
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2. |
Gettin' Ripped
03:50
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She's milk in a wine glass.
Good for my bones but too high class
While here I'm thinking about the way
My lawn looks like a parking lot
She's got the pearls on her neck
Wisdom of the world upon her breast
And here I'm sitting alone with
Basic cable and prepaid phones
Can't send a text can't T9 'I want you'
That costs 10 cents, rather use my minutes
When the cards are down and it don't seem right
Where your best girls gone and she won't call back
Can't stand the heat if it's not my kitchen
and all I wanna hear is my best girl bitchin’
When the goings rough and they got your goat
Last week someone stole my goat
Gotta get up and crush some cans
We're getting ripped, gettin' ripped again
Crack another one over breakfast
Start today with last weeks paper
Skip the news, gimme funny pages
Ziggy, Archie, the whole damn gang
So it’s on me to find the answers
Why she’s so high, I feel so low
Her charities and country clubs
While I steal radios from cars
It just ain't fair, we have fingerprints
Oh, it ain't fair, modern forensics
But my best girl is gone
She won't be standing on my lawn
With a six-ringer
Like when we met under the moon
Making love two times
On the hood of a Corvette
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3. |
Forget About Tonight
03:16
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Pour me another one of them drinks
So I won’t remember this in the morning
Or the way that she done me wrong
When all I ever gone and done was done her right.
Pour me another one of them drinks
With a little more whiskey and a little less ice
Pour me another one of them drinks
So I’ll forget about tonight
And the way your silluhette looked
When you stood there naked in the moonlight
Pour me another one of them drinks
And I’ll set the bar a little lower
And then we can take a drive
Somewhere over yonder
Pour me another one of them drinks
I think my blood’s turning into wine
Pour me another one of them drinks
And help me hit rock bottom tonight
You done me wrong, with dozens of men.
You broke my heart, again and again.
Pour me another make it nice and strong
I’ll be face down on the floor before long
Maybe I’ll take my drink for the road
Just pour it in my subway cup from lunch
Maybe I’ll take my drink for the road
Maybe I’ll stagger all the way home
Maybe I wont make it that far
Maybe I’ll walk till the sun comes up
Ill take a cup of whiskey to go
Before you kick me out your door
You done me wrong with all of those men
You made a fool of me in front of my friends
Kicked me in the side when I fell to the ground
I should be in my bed sleeping safe and sound
But instead I’m sitting awake at 5 am and I’m ready to…
Pour me another one of them drinks
As the sun begins to rise
Pour me another one of them drinks
So I’ll forget about tonight
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4. |
Another One in the Bag
02:52
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My IPod jack's all full of dirt
Door handle's busted on my car
And if you see me getting through
The passenger side that's all I got
I'm lazy and a shade too broke
To get down to the junkyard
With the dogs a barking,
While I break shit with a bat I'm so bored
Yeah I know, you wanna know me
With my guitar 'a-slingin' like a honky-tonk hero
From days of yore
Ain't gettin' in to no heaven
Eating at Seven Eleven
Microwaving a meatball sub
Got me a job from an online ad
Some creative writing gig
Bet I'm their man based on the fact
Been writing raps for about ten years
Ain't seen no pay read no replies
Guess you could say my wallets dry
But that's OK 'cause I'm rich in spirits
So knock one back with me friend
Just dripping off my hand, while I stick it to the man
Collecting unemployment and spare change in a jar
Saving every cent, just so I can spend it
Drinking whiskey with the band 'til we got
another one in the bag
Free hobbies tend to be the best
A public beach or unprotected sex
Library DVDs or coffee at a bank
So much for free who do I thank
I guess my girl and my guitar
Uncle Sam and local bars
Major chords and Google Docs
Pizza parties and matching socks
I owe it to so many concepts
Public and private entities
This song goes out you
Even the credit companies
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5. |
Stomp On Me
04:50
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Sittin' here strummin' in the shed
Got to find a reason these songs are dead
Reckon something's missing in the words
And it takes a rowdy girl to make it work
You can't write a ballad with a beating heart
Wrap it in a package and call it art
If you're gonna sing about all you gave
Don't leave out the part about getting laid
And I got no cash, means I got no love
And I got no stash, to hold me up
So damn broken with no words to sing
About this woman walking over me
Can't write a love song without love
Hugs and kisses licks and gentle rubs
Buried under meaning in sad, sad songs
From a tape machine rumbling underground
And I got no song, if you don't walk out
And I got no chorus, if you won't shout
So damn broken with no words to sing
About this woman walking over me
Sitting here, awful bored
Sang it all, many times before
So girl, if you don't take ah, chance with me
Can't write a song without you stomping on me
Can't write a song without you stomping on me
Can't write a song without you stomping on me
Oh yeah, stomp me
Lay lay lay, your stomp
Gather around, for ah, sight to see
Or wait for this woman to stomp one all over me
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The Whiskey Mountain Way recommends:
Damn good!
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Damn good!
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