He still likes the bar room's
|
Dim-lit, smoky atmosphere
|
The different kinds of perfume,
|
Conversations he overhears
|
He's just one of many winding down
|
Or winding up the night
|
The only way he knows to let loose
|
Is to hold on tight.
|
|
[Chorus:]
|
And he'll never lose that hold
|
He'll never change his ways
|
The good times won't grow old
|
These are the good old days.
|
|
He's got no broken romance
|
That sent him wondering way back when
|
He carries the torch for no one,
|
That's the way it's always been
|
He's just one of the chosen few
|
Who won't push or tow that line
|
He knows he'd only lose his heart,
|
He'd never lose his mind.
|
|
[Chorus:]
|
Oh, And he'll never lose that hold
|
He'll never change his ways
|
The good times won't grow old
|
These are the good old days.
|
|
[Chorus:]
|
Oh, And he'll never lose that hold
|
He'll never change his ways
|
The good times won't grow old
|
These are the good old days.
|
|
These are the good old days...
|
|
-----------------
|
The Good Old Days
|
| Clint Black |
