Hemingway's whiskey Hemingway's whiskey, warm and smooth and mean Even when it burns, it'll always finish clean He didn't like it watered down, he took it straight up and neat If it was bad enough for him, you know it's bad enough for me Ah, it's tough

Bet he feels like an elephant Shaking his big grey trunk for the hell of it You know that you're dreaming about being loved by him Too bad your chances are slim And it’s not like Mr. Shock To get shy when I ask who always is on top? There must be

It's too bad cause love is blind It's too bad its too bad It's too bad its so bad It's too bad its so sad Oh oh oh oh It's too bad it don't matter baby for loving you It's too bad 'cause love is blind

And it's not your fault That I fumbled your heart Should've let go of my past for you You did everything I asked of you Drived across the country if I asked you too I fumbled your heart But I'm just bad for you I'm bad news, yeah I'm just bad for you I'm

I need tints (windows tinted) I need tints (I need my windows tinted) I can't be flying down that 110 with a bad bitch in my whip And it's no good for me, it's so good for them I got way too much to lose, so roll your window up real quick They won't see

It's a little too late I'm a little too gone, A little too tired of just hangin' on So I'm letting go while I'm still strong enough to It's got a little too sad I'm a little too blue It's a little too bad You were too good to be true I'm big time over

Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door Feels like I'm knockin' on heaven's door Mama take this badge from me I can't use it anymore It's getting dark too dark to see Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door, eh yeah Mama put my guns in the ground I can't

Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door Feels like I'm knockin' on heaven's door Mama take this badge from me I can't use it anymore It's getting dark too dark to see Knock-knock-knockin' on heaven's door, eh yeah Mama put my guns in the ground I can't

It's too bad it's too bad It's too bad we had no time to rewind Let's walk, let's talk Too late, so wrong, so long It's too late, so wrong, so long Father's hands are lined with dirt From long days in the field Mother's hands are serving meals

Bet he feels like an elephant Shaking his big grey trunk for the hell of it You know that you're dreaming about being loved by him Too bad your chances are slim And it’s not like Mr. Shock To get shy when I ask who always is on top? There must be