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czwartek, 18 kwietnia 2019

Corey Smith - The Good Life | Tekst piosenki | Lyrics

I'm sittin alone in my three-bedroom home 
A mile east of where I was raised 
Starin out the window at my dog in the backyard 
I'm sittin alone in my three-bedroom home 
A mile east of where I was raised 
Starin out the window at my dog in the backyard 
In the pine straw covered with clay 
Damn he's a mess but we love him to death 
I guess he fits in this family well 
Yea we're a bloodline of shepherds used to roamin the pastures 
Tryin to cope with this suburban hell 

It sure ain't the good life we're livin, but I reckon we're happy enough 
We've done well with the hand we were given, with a little hope and a whole lotta love 

Dad just finished buildin it must have cost him a killin 
That house out on Rambler's Inn 
He sent my brother off to college, walkin through the arches 
Man we're all sure proud of him 
But he never tried to spoil us, kept our hands in the saw dust 
Yea we chipped in whenever we could 
And we shared in the sweat and the blood and the tears 
I guess he knew it would do us some good 

It sure ain't the good life we're livin, but I reckon we're happy enough 
We've done well with the hands we were given, with a little hope and a whole lotta love 
No we don't have our fists full of dollars and we're no southern aristocrats 
No we ain't got a lot but we've earned what we got 
And we couldn't do it much better than that 

My wife quite her job, now she's workin full time 
Takin care of the baby and me 
And I'm playin in the bars tryin to pay off the debts 
Lord this half acre didn't come cheap 
I come draggin in three and four in the mornin 
Smell like tobacco and rum 
Still she wakes up to greet me cause she loves me completely 
Says she's proud of the star I've become 

It sure is a good life we're livin, yea I reckon we're happy enough 
We've done well with the hand we were given, with a little hope and a whole lotta love 
No we don't have our fists full of dollars and we're no southern aristocrats 
No we ain't got a lot but we've earned what we got 
And we couldn't do it much better than that 

I hope ole St. Peter will have me when they throw my coffin in the back 
When that hearse rolls away I hope all ya'll will say 
He couldn't do it much better than that

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