Jesus saves and cancer kills,

playing gigs don't pay my bills.

Neither does sitting around

smoking with my friends.

I asked the Lord for better days,

He turned around, asked me the same.

And one of us woke up on the

wrong side of the queen sized again.

Now I'm waiting for a friend who's a fool with his money

to say hey Jake, you want a record deal buddy.

I pissed away ninety dollars and last month's ambition

On a songwriting competition.

Stand me up and knock me down,

I've never once stood out in a crowd

Unless the crowd was standing in front of me.

One of us probably should have stayed home,

one of has a microphone.

Don't mean your problems don't matter,

or who or who is sadder.

Just means that I get to bitch a little louder.

Now I'm waiting for a friend who's a fool with his money

to say hey Jake, you want a record deal buddy.

There's a bunch of loud drunks and one pissed off Christian.

This ain't no songwriting competition.

Some of buddies- they pick a little too.

They figured out just what to do-

It's 40 hour weeks and covers for tips on the side.

But I ain't them and they ain't me,

I'm losing sleep livin’ the dream,

and I'm an odd job away from losing my mind.

I'm just waiting for my uncle to die and leave me money,

make a record with Sammy or something.

I'm cussing at the wind as I'm standing here pissing

on a songwriting competition.

I'd like to rip the testicles off of your truck

and hold them in my hand for a while.

You never did like my femine side,

and my songs were never quite your style.

Of course you don't know nothing

about real country music,

though you love to touch that FM dial.

Buddy I'd have to kick your ass

If I seen you in a Walmart aisle.

If I seen you in a Walmart aisle,

there's no telling what I'd do.

I might turn my shopping cart around

I might run right over you.

It's a place we both frequent,

so I'll be Dollar General damned for a while.

Buddy I'd have to kick your ass

if I seen you in a Walmart aisle.

You got a mind smaller than the town we came from.

So you put folks down to make yourself feel bigger

than the tires on your pickup truck.

Slapping backs with good ol' boys

sitting around wearing "Busch latte" smiles.

Buddy I'd have to kick your ass

If I seen you in a Walmart aisle.

If I seen you in a Walmart aisle,

there's no telling what I'd do.

I might turn my shopping cart around

I might run right over you.

It's a place we both frequent,

so I'll be Dollar General damned for a while.

Buddy I'd have to kick your ass

if I seen you in a Walmart aisle.

Stumbled down to the Sunoco-

dollar short of a smoke.

A day later than I thought it was,

Easter had let them close.

And so I headed back to the apartment,

when on the sidewalk I did see

this old man talking to himself,

and cussing these dirty streets.

Thought I'd join the conversation.

He asked me for a quarter,

and then he did some magic trick.

He lied about working steady,

and he laughed at the price of my rent.

Then he fumbled in his pocket

for something he could not find.

And with more than our boots in common,

It was my lighter for his advice.

He said:

Forget about this cement buddy,

And hang up the siren's call.

There's honkey tonks back home

that'll treat you well.

These city lights can shine so bright,

you lose sight of who you are.

Until you find yourself in fist fights over pills.

He said the rich folks think Chicago

when I tell them where I'm from,

but two hours south in a twelve-hundred town-

that's the place that I call home.

And a lump rose up to my throat,

as an ash fell on the ground.

He said: "How about you?"

I said: "Illinois too, man. I know all about that little town."

He said:

Forget about this cement buddy,

And hang up the siren's call.

There's honkey tonks back home

that'll treat you well.

These city lights can shine so bright,

you lose sight of who you are.

Until you find yourself in fist fights over pills.

Well I thanked him for the talking,

And he handed me back my light.

And then he sat there with my quarter

as I stumbled off into the night.

And I've never been a fighter,

and I've always preferred the wine.

But you can lose yourself in a bottle,

and loving ain't always kind.

I have never been a fighter.

and I've always preferred the wine.

I was sipping on a strawberry soda,

watching squirrels run and jump and play.

Feeling so sublime, till I looked down to check the time

and saw a friend from highschool passed away.

Now we were never close enough for crying,

just close enough to let it break my heart.

He's up in heaven finding out the meaning,

and I'm sipping on a soda in the yard.

Just then my neighbor walked up with a six string

Said what the hell, I just bought it buddy- life's too short.

I shook the chill and called up my old lady,

and tried to make it back to my front door.

Now we were never close enough for crying,

just close enough to let it break my heart.

He's up in heaven finding out the meaning,

and I'm sipping on a soda in the yard.

Got a strawberry soda in the yard,

My friend is up there dancing with the stars.

Some say wine can help the heart,

but it just hurts my head.

I let whiskey do the talking,

and then I walk with my regret.

And you've always found yourself

in arms of men not half your worth.

I thought I could do better,

but I think I turned out worse.

I don't care about a Sunday,

cause nothing makes me feel

as empty as you crying,

with sunshine at the wheel.

And we drove around in circles,

down every street in town.

I tried to hold my tongue,

but the words fought their way out:

I've always loved you,

and of that I have no doubts.

Please believe me I've always loved you,

I just never quite knew how.

I left that day well knowing

I'd sit with all this shame,

finding comfort in the darkest hour

with another bourbon stain.

And it’s funny all these feelings,

oh, but I dont care to laugh,

all the day dreams I was chasing

it don't compare to what we had.

I've always loved you,

and of that I have no doubts.

Please believe I've always loved you,

I just never quite knew how.

(What, with the drum? Yeah I kinda like that.)

Listen to me lady,

I don’t mean to make you cry when you're alone.

but if it's any consolation,

know I do the same when I am on my own.

Look past the heartache and the habits,

I ain't so much a cowboy as a clown.

It ain't the fighting in the street I fear as much

as when they finally shoot me down.

Watching Andy Griffith reruns,

sitting in my bedroom all alone.

Wishing work was steady,

but thankful that my fingers ain't all bone.

And we got a gig tomorrow,

We’re bound to see at least three hundred cash.

Money ain't what keeps us going,

trouble is the money sure keeps going fast.

Listen to me lady,

I don’t mean to make you cry when you're alone.

but if it's any consolation,

know I do the same when I am on my own.

Look past the heartache and the habits,

I ain't so much a cowboy as a clown.

It ain't the fighting in the streets I fear as much

as when they finally shoot me down.

Now the clock is singing midnight,

I'm sipping coffee as black as both my lungs.

You're beside me humming in a key

that lets me know the crying's done.

I played my sense of humor

in a fight where pistols ran the show.

and I made it out of laughing at the bodies the bullets and the smoke

and I made it out of laughing at the bodies the bullets and the smoke.

He said tomorrow won't be easy,

and tonight it's looking worse.

And it makes no difference to me, friend

if I wake up in a hearse.

Then he turned and coughed,

and he spat some blood

as he lit another smoke.

Said if my death is the punchline,

I might as well laugh at the joke.

He said I'm in and out of these bar-rooms

like a squirrel from tree to tree.

There’s aliens and angels

trying to get the best of me.

And he walked up to the jukebox,

and he played some Waylon tune,

and at the end of every chorus

he yell: "Go on and pick it Moon."

And he sat down on the bar-stool,

and he finished his third beer.

He left his number for the waitress,

and said boys I am out of here.

Cause I can feel the memories creeping in

of that whore I loved last fall,

and I feel too good for hurting-

I'd rather play pinball.

There's smoke in my hair, and there's ash on the floor.

I poured out the whiskey then I went and bought more.

Oh, don't call me a liar, my fingers were crossed the whole time.

My gas tank is empty, and my wallet is too.

My soul has been soaked from the rain in my boot,

and I'd donate my brain to Goodwill if it'd bring peace of mind.

One of these days I will set myself straight,

When the angels come down or I stand at the gates,

‘till then I'll be wandering around with troubadour's blues.

Fiending for something that I'll never find,

fighting my demons by fueling their fire,

only me and God know promises I never meant.

I sing for my supper and there’s nothing to eat,

I tremble on stage and I shake in my sheets,

Oh, if I could I would pawn off my heart to pay rent.

One of these days I will set myself straight,

When the angels come down or I stand at the gates,

‘till then I'll be wandering around with troubadour's blues.

‘Till then I'll be wandering around with troubadour's blues

I hadn't even got out of bed

when I turned on my phone.

There was three “I'm sorry” texts,

and six missed calls from home.

Hell I hadn't even made my coffee,

and my day was already through.

I already planned on getting fucked up,

and now I had a reason to.

And it's so long buddy-

I doubt we'll ever meet again,

cause where you've gone and where I'm going

ain't the same place that we've been.

Where I'm headed might as well be hell,

as long as they let me cry

for an old man leaving one below,

still too young to die.

So I'm left here with your picture

and a nightmare full of dreams.

One will stay with me forever,

at least that how it seems.

But as far as that picture goes,

I might as well light a match.

‘Cause the good times frozen in that frame

won’t ever bring you back.

And it's so long buddy-

I doubt we'll ever meet again,

cause where you've gone and where I'm going

ain't the same place that we've been.

Where I'm headed might as well be hell,

just as long as they let me cry

for an old man leaving one below,

still too young to die.

You were an old man,

leaving one below

that don't know the reason why.

You were working on a puzzle,

trying not to fall asleep.

I was standing in the kitchen,

with the Cardinals on TV.

The bowl was full of candy,

there's coffee in my cup.

I was watching you get older,

as you watched me grow up.

And you know I got my guitar,

my sisters on her way.

Don't you fall asleep just yet,

we got songs to play.

And Soph sings like an angel,

and you look like one too.

With hair that shouldn't be so grey,

for eyes that stay so blue.

We were laughing at a picture

from when you were a girl.

A can of beer was in your hand,

your hair all up in curls.

That’s when you smiled,

winked and said to me:

"You know for ninety-seven,

I still feel seventeen."

And you know I got my guitar,

my sisters on her way.

Don't you fall asleep just yet,

we got songs to play.

And Soph sings like an angel,

and you look like one too.

With hair that shouldn't be so grey,

for eyes that stay so blue.

We were waiting on a phone call,

we knew it wasn't good.

Tried to tell ourselves: "shit happens."

just like I knew you would.

But by the time we got there to you,

you'd closed your eyes.

I thought about the puzzle,

and the pictures of your life.

And you know I got my guitar,

the family's on their way.

But go ahead and get your rest-

we'll sing another day.

And you like an angel,

I guess that's nothing new.

Flickertail from North Dakota,

flying in the blue.

Remember me in love,

when the final sun goes down.

Not the hatred that I held

before my peace was found.

Forget the times I lost myself,

forgive them if you can.

All the nights I sat and cursed myself,

a bottle in my hand.

Remember me in love,

when the moon is in the sky.

Not the times I fell like the stars,

or the tears in Mama's eyes.

Look past the words I said to you,

as cruel as they could be.

Recall the songs I sang for you,

embrace my melody.

Read through the letters

you keep under your bed.

Look through the photographs

you keep inside your head.

And when you find those old memories..

Well, God knows I pray you remember me.

Remember me in love,

when there's nothing else to do.

If you find yourself alone,

and your thoughts are breaking through-

Don't call upon the devil,

don't curse the Lord above.

Just accept the fact that I had to go,

and remember me in love.

Lucky for you, the entertainment's free.

Well my friends would probably laugh,

but my mom would be ashamed

if she caught sight of me that night,

in the absence of the moon.

With eyes that held

a drunken truth

of youth yet to be tamed,

lost and lonesome I shook next to you.

And I ain't half of what you need, but I'm all of what you have.

Let's pretend we ain't been here before.

I always care enough to change,

but I never change enough to say:

I don't wanna be Hank Williams anymore.

When the sunlight punched down on my face,

I was searching for a rhyme

to make sense of the mess I made

and a lack of self control.

And as I reached into my pocket

for a pill to kill the time,

I wondered if the song

was worth my soul.

And I ain't half of what you need, but I'm all of what you have.

Let's pretend we ain't been here before.

I always care enough to change,

but I never change enough to say:

I don't wanna be Hank Williams anymore.

And I'm better than being born to lose,

but I believed the lie you gotta live the blues-

see the light somewhere along the way

and I could die young in ten more years,

but I wouldn't mind growing old down here

if I could finally change enough to say:

I don't wanna be Hank Williams anymore.

I don't wanna be Hank Williams anymore.

Last night I over dosed on melatonin,

and I had a dream the good Lord came again.

He descended in the middle of a tornado warning

and I hopped aboard a funnel cloud with him.

We laughed about the years that I spent wandering,

we talked about our natural hate for shoes.

Barefoot on the streets of gold just strolling,

with nothing but eternity to lose.

He said: life is meant for living,

and ain't nobody famous when they're dead,

and the knowing of your name ain't as important

as all the ones that you share your name with.

And I found a car equipped for time travel,

I left the pearly gates for 1949.

In a nudie suit I sat and came unraveled,

as old Hiram Hank stepped up to the mic.

And I waited 'round the back door of the Opry,

shook his hand and thanked him for the song.

As he loaded up the gear we got to talking,

he told me just where I was going wrong.

He said: life is meant for living,

and legend's just another word for dead.

And the knowing of your name ain't as important

as all the ones that you share your name with.

Then I woke up in a cold sweat in the bedroom,

I took a walk, and tried to clear my head.

Picked some pretty flowers on the roadside,

and then I went and spent the morning with a friend.

We must have talked until the afternoon light,

about weddings, work, and all the folks back home.

As I got up to leave I said I love you Grandma,

Then I left those pretty flowers on her stone

I guess life is meant for loving.

Right where I am is where I ought to be.

And the knowing of my name ain't as important

As all the ones that share my name with me.

Yeah, the knowing of my name ain't as important

as all the ones that share my name with me.

Well, here's to Heaven friends,

whatever that might be.

I think I've been there once

in some sort of hillbilly dream.

At the farm hunting squirrels with my brothers-

Dad standing at the well,

and walking beside him, a little lop-sided

was this old boxer with a tail.

Dad had got him from Grandpa.

'Course Grandpa got him from Dad,

'cause he was the son of this real ugly one

that we had.

But anyways, the boxer with a tail-

his name was Mac.

Mac was Grandpa's buddy,

shotgun rider for ten years.

But Dad got him back Grandpa,

caught the last train outta here.

Yeah, Grandpa went to Heaven,

so Mac with home with Dad-

and lived to be the kindest reminder

that he ever had of his old man.

And from weekend workdays down on the farm,

to just napping on the couch-

like some old western movie,

Mac and Dad were pals.

And there we were hunting squirrels

when it hit me all at once-

that old dog standing by the well

was once a young pup, like all of us.

And then outta nowhere,

Mac laid down and died.

Well I couldn't write up a better ending,

no sir, not even if I tried.

So here's to Heaven,

dipping snuff, and eating spam.

Walking around like Billy the Kid,

with a .22 in our hands.

Here’s to Dad's old dog,

and water in a well.

Never have seen a sight quite like

a boxer with a tail.

So here's to Heaven, friends,

and old dogs all the same.