something about the fast lifeWe all want a shot

two, three, still a cigarette machine by the

was born in boots on humble groundThese kinda roots,

1: Ian my younger years, I knew nothingI'd be

been a long, hot summerFor a hard-working John Deere

ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh)(Ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh, got a bus 'fore

working like a dog, tryna please 'em allTryna put

make myself drive through your townI make myself pull

a night in PensacolaThe moon was hanging highYou said

let down my window to smoke a cigaretteLet the

left hand ain't interested in nothin' but a drink

guess a break is just a break until it's

1: Jelly save me, me from myselfI've spent so

1: Lauren Alaina, Lainey and Louise and some faded

Mama kept a mat there by the doorSo Deddy could kick

wouldn't know it by the way he talksAbove his

was a lone wolfHad my own backClimbin' that mountain,

1: Chris is time to say farewell, now the

saw her today at the receptionA glass of wine

want you to know, that I'm happy for youI