Текст песни Butch Walker & The Black Widows - Bullet Belt
Жанр: | Indie Rock / Pop-Rock |
Исполнитель: | Butch Walker & The Black Widows |
Альбом: | The Spade |
Длительность: | 04:04 |
Рейтинг: | 62 |
MP3: | Скачать |
Загрузил: | jaxxxon |
Текст:
Hey Daddy tell me 'bout the time you had to go to jail for smokin' pot An Iron Maiden concert in a Carolina parking lot Whoa And when you had to listen to recordings on a record player And your band all had to plug into a little amplifier Just to hear over the drums Hear over the drums I can only hear the drums I can only hear the drums Well 1969 to 1977 It was 8 years of heaven 'hind the 7-11 Stayin' out all night While we kept our engines revvin' And we'd never make it home before dawn... Maybe... I'm not that crazy I'm just playing with the hand I was dealt Maybe... I'm not that crazy I'm just a chip off the ol' bullet belt Hey momma tell me bout the time you would sneak out of your window And meet up with your other friends and smoke your cigarettes And blow the smoke into another girl's mouth Whoa And when you drove across the country With your stoner friends all in a van To fill up all your mason jars with the California sand California sand, California sand California, California, California sand Well 1969 to 1977 It was 8 years of heaven 'hind the 7-11 Stayin' out all night While we kept our engines revvin' And we'd never make it home before dawn... Hair dyed black A walking marshall stack We'd play all night shows behind the chicken shack Sittin' back to back We were a heart attack' Givin' the finger to the cops on the lawn Maybe... I'm not that crazy I'm just playin' with the hand I was dealt Maybe... I'm not that crazy I'm just a chip off the ol' bullet belt Well 1969 to 1977 It was 8 years of heaven 'hind the 7-11 Stayin' out all night While we kept our engines revvin' And we'd never make it home before dawn... Hair dyed black A walking marshall stack We'd play all night shows behind the chicken shack Sittin' back to back We were a heart attack' Givin' the finger to the cops on the lawn Maybe... I'm not that crazy I'm just playin' with the hand I was dealt Maybe... I'm not that crazy I'm just a chip off the ol' bullet belt
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