Songtext von Faulkner Street

The record player's scratchin' out an old and dusty tune On the front porch, on a Sunday, on an Arky afternoon We were lyin' 'round like gypsies, thinkin' 'bout goin' to town And Jimmy's drinkin' whiskey straight and lyin' in the shade Jamie's dancin' round the kitchen with a glass of lemonade Lookin' like an angel who's never gonna touch the ground Trouble in mind How'd we ever lose that time? Livin' for the best Leavin' all the rest behind Now them boys from Morgan County, there a comin' out tonight With country on the radio and trouble in there eyes They come walkin' up the driveway, singin' 'bout the night before And we'll head up to the mountain, pick-up trucks and old guitars We'll all smoke marijuana as we look up at the stars Raisin' hell for hours, until we can't take any more