drove the wheels off a flatbed FordFlies found a

kisses taste like whiskeyBurning through my veinsShe don't know

1: Blake sun is setting on your last good

in my daddy's truckEight years old and acting toughHe

1: Blake never thought you'd pick up the phoneIt's

1: Barbra Streisand & Blake has a way of

Hollywood BoulevardLooking down, seeing stars90210, Rodeo is RodeoGlad I

I'm going to be famous, do I have talent,

roasting on an open fireJack Frost nipping at your

music in the cityAnd lights are on displayThere's a

hey, I'm out here bailing hayAnd all my friends

a roadhouse just outside of town on a two-lane

get home at five-thirtyFix a drink and sit down

brings back an old feelingRunning into you like thisI'm

knew something was the matterIt really needed my attentionAnd

I can’t see in this darknessSo in need of forgivenessBefore all

you want a good timeIf you want a good

we're just gonnaPull up a stool, act like a

night I broke the seal on a Jim Beam

1: Blake walks into Smokey's one hip at a