1, 2, 3...
|
|
Whoa, oh, ho, oh-oh, whoa
|
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Changing strings
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Banging on things
|
A couple of girls from the school
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Would listen to KISS
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With rockets for fists
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Acting like Saturdays fools
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Learned how to smoke
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Told dirty jokes
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Talked about loose girls from Rome
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I made out with most of them
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So I raised a toast to them
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Especially now that I'm old
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And they're 45 with husbands who don't like their wives
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3 or 4 kids, make enough to survive
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In their paper mill jobs
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While their teen heartthrobs
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Are playing in bands
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Or they're dead
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Can I go back to when
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I was the winner
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Way before the rain came
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And washed away the sinners?
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Everyone was something and
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Nothing was done right or wrong
|
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Oh, oh, oh
|
Whoa, oh, ho, oh-oh, whoa
|
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Smothering the cover of a '69 summer
|
Played through a speaker of fuzz
|
Nobody knew Bryan Adams wasn't cool
|
The TV just told me he was
|
Always heard the sound
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Get me out of this town
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Resonating clear in my head
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Chuck ran away with our gear and the drugs
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Ya know I'm pretty sure that he's dead
|
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Or he's 46 and alone
|
Cast the heaviest stone
|
Suburban cover band playing bad to the bone
|
In a bath tub of meth
|
You can smell your own death
|
You know when you can't look your past in the eye
|
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Can I just go back to when
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I was the winner
|
Way before the rain came
|
And washed away the sinners?
|
Everyone was something
|
And I could never do any wrong
|
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Oh, oh, oh
|
Whoa, oh, ho, oh-oh, whoa
|
|
Went back to the woods
|
Where I hid all my goods
|
In a rusted out Cadillac door
|
We all get nostalgic
|
And fall for the hat trick
|
Of thinking it'll be like before
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Like the football jocks
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Trying to please their pops
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And the stoners aping everything their bad uncles taught
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And the teachers who cared
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More than I ever knew
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They knew I played clubs
|
Let me sleep through school
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And my day job boss
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Who wrote it up as a loss
|
But let me leave when I wanted and I never got caught
|
Sleeping out on the field
|
In the back of my truck
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Breaking into the bars
|
Stealing the beer and getting fucked
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By a girl twice my age, making minimum wage
|
But the tan lines were good
|
And she had a good face
|
Is this what I've become?
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Is this all I've become?
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When do I become...?
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I wanna go back to when
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I was the winner
|
Way before the rain came
|
And washed away the sinners
|
Everyone was someone and
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And I could never do any wrong
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|
Oh, oh, oh
|
Whoa, oh, ho, oh-oh, whoa
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|
-----------------
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Summer Of '89
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| Butch Walker |
