Stupid old pickup truck You never let me drive You're a redneck heartbreak Who's really bad at lying So watch me strike a match On all my wasted time Just another picture to burn As far as I'm concerned you're 'Cause I hate that

'Cause I can't stop loving you I can't stop loving you No, I can't stop loving you That I was lying Though I try So you're leaving In the morning On the early train I could say everything's alright

I'm not leaving tonight Said, today she called here twenty-six times (I know you counted) You kept telling me not to worry (Don't worry 'bout it) Wanna believe that you're telling the truth (So don't doubt it) But if you are lying to me... You're leaving

I want to be alone So pray, pray for me I run in tow And where you're from I long to know And it shall be so That's not me from a-trying That's the devil and his lying I cannot love

But once again these tears always win These eyes put up a fight Say now baby girl you're better off That's what I'm telling myself (over and over) But I'm lying to myself 'Cause these lips are missin' you (Missin' you) 'Cause these lips ain't kissin' you

It's obvious that you're dying, dying Just living proof that the camera's lying And oh oh open wide Don't look up just let them think You can't turn back Because this road is all you'll ever have 'Cause you'll go out in style You'll go out in style Yeah

And it's obvious that you're dying, dying Just living proof that the camera's lying And oh, oh open wide You can't turn back Because this road is all you'll ever have 'Cause you'll go out in style You'll go out in style Yeah, yeah well you're just a mess

You're just another brick and I'm a sledgehammer I hit a wall, I thought that I would hurt myself Oh I was sure, your words would leave me unconscious And on the floor I'd be lying cold, lifeless But I hit a wall, I hit 'em all, watch the fall I hit a

Can we talk in the morning? Oh, baby it's late I'm a dog lying down on a warm bit of pavement Checking this collar you see what the name is Think that it's worth it? Well, I hope that you're right You're falling asleep on the red eye tonight And you know

I'd rather be buried way down in some cypress grove your knee-bone gone aching and your body sure getting cold I'd rather be lying six feet down in the ground To have me a woman that I can't control You're just getting ready for some cypress grove Well