Tonights the night to party
Not just because I say
Tonights the night to party
Because it ' s the ending of the day
Throw up your hands
and yell yee haw
Grab a drink and hit the floor
Dancing without caring
That's what this party's for

The band is slightly out of tune
But, hey who gives a ****
They sound better later on
When you are really lit
By two a.m you'd think that they
Were Alabama and  George Jones
While you're trying to record them on
Your prissy little phones

This place don't karaoke
You're singing with the band
You're singing country music
It's the best in all the land
No running shoes, just cowboy boots
Will get you in the door
If you come in with a cowboy hat
Make sure it faces to the front
All the dude's they wear them backwards
And they look like a dumb c*

Tonights the night to party
Not just because I say
Tonights the night to party
Because it ' s the ending of the day
Throw up your hands
and yell yee haw
Grab a drink and hit the floor
Dancing without caring
That's what this party's for


You can listen for the steel guitar
It's there in every song
Hey man, this here's a country bar
And steel guitar , it just belongs
There's always background fiddle
Drums like Levon from The Band
Piano played like Jerry Lee
The floor's all blood and sand

You've come on out to party
Now show them how a redneck does
Knock back a few and get up here
And when you dance, you cuss
The music here will rock you
It's American through and through
It's a good old country party
It's all red white and blue

I'm just in this time of my life
where I don't care about anything.

I don't care what time it is when I wake up,
what's for breakfast, lunch, or dinner.
I don't care about what I'm going to do in the day or what I'm going to wear.
I don't really care about what is around,
how's the weather,
or what's going on in the country
with the politics, economy,
or religious problems.
I don't even care who is or not in my life
or what people think and say about me.
                          
I just in this time of my life
where I only care about me,
about survive,
about knowing how to deal
with each circumstances
that try to destroy me.

Looking for an answer
But, I still don't get the question
People liking country
But, I'm still missin' western
On the straight and narrow
But, I'm stuck on the turn
Not sure where I'm goin'
When ever will I  learn?

People always texting
But, me... I'm leaving notes
They are  always flying
And me, I'm stuck on boats
They know all the hot spots
But, me I'm stuck at home
They go out together
I stay home alone

I'm a long necked bottle
In a short necked box
They're all hunting
And I'm the fox
I'm a half beat slow
When the music rocks
I'm a long necked bottle
In a short necked box

Looking to the future
While I'm  looking at the past
I look at the country
They just go by fast
I'm trying to fit in
I can't tell you how I feel
It' like I'm going round
But, I am the fifth wheel

Going out for drinks
I always go to the wrong bar
They want to go out dancing
I want a good cigar
They all like to disco
I like "Whiskey in the Jar"
They all drive big trucks
I drive a rusty car

I'm a long necked bottle
In a short necked box
They're all hunting
And I'm the fox
I'm a half beat slow
When the music rocks
I'm a long necked bottle
In a short necked box

Make them suffer, fall in love
Words dripping with emotion
You're the singer....alchemist
Words and Music are your potion
Make them cry, laugh, and sing
Make them react to every line
Stir the *** some....Alchemist
On a tightrope made of rhyme

One chance is all you get
Working without a net
No one will hear you fall
You're tightrope is made of words
On stage at the Bluebird
You've only one chance...that's all

Write your thoughts out, share your dreams
Do it in three four time
Put it to music, bring them along
On your musical tightrope line
Go out and sell yourself, nightly
And make them feel what is inside
Remember, you're up on a tightrope
And each night, is a completely new ride

One chance is all you get
Working without a net
No one will hear you fall
You're tightrope is made of words
On stage at the Bluebird
You've only one chance...that's all


There's no support but words and music
At the Bluebird, you're on your own
Make them a part of you, do the best you can do
Make them all family, sing to them each...alone
Don't forget don't look down, just focus on the light
Come on now, Alchemist, stir the *** some more
Make them all cry again, make them remember when
Sing from the tightrope and they'll fall in love once more

One chance is all you get
Working without a net
No one will hear you fall
You're tightrope is made of words
On stage at the Bluebird
You've only one chance...that's all

Unfounded urgency draws
Us out and toward impaling claws.
Body fails on desert shore
Where charging fog unravels with no sea to ride.
 
We cannot imagine coast
Tearing through our raging ghost.
Nor can we remember or
Forget this comfort of eternal attrition
 
Reaching skyward ever, more,
With all earth’s heave behind our roar.
The bleak sunlight quiets most;
Drained survivors drawn back toward retreating silence.
 
From out here. Quiet yet reserving might
For each war against shadow-giving light.
And each dark day we still reach for the moon
As persistently as in illumed night.

I'm sitting here,
all alone,
enjoying the view.
A blue sky reflected in the sea,
hearing the waves
approaching and crashing the shore,
feeling the sand in my feet,
sinking my toes in it,
the wind abruptly moving my hair
and the sun burning my skin;
While taking a deep breath inhaling peace,
appreciating how magnificent
is the panorama
surrounding my beautiful island.

the city and it's music
every changing
the city and it's music
daily rearranging

you can hear the distant thunder
kept in time by city drums
a beat of urban tires
that makes the city roadways strum
the wind blows through the subway
you can hear the wires hum
it's the city making music
shut your eyes and listen some

the band has no conductor
there are horns and there are strings
there's a bass back from the buses
listen to the joy it brings
it's a concert in the city
by the city and it rings
the bells from downtown churches
and the piegeons flapping wings

you've an orchestra around now
listen close, it never stops
from the cars racing through downtown
to the whistle blowing cops
it's a different kind of music
it's got a rhythm that just pops
it's a gritty harder sound
that echos to the building tops

cars, trucks, people walking
all are part of this great band
and the best part of this music
is it's spread across the land
each song you hear is different
nothing ever comes out planned
each city has a cadence
listen close, the show's at hand....

I'm a rocker who likes country
But lately what I find
is that whatever I am hearing
turns to foggy mountain breakdown
in my mind

I listen to Nirvana
And I love to hear it fuzz
But right now Dave Grohl's music
has got foggy mountain breakdown
kind of buzz

Someone saved my life tonight
Elton, don't you know
That right now when I hear it
it's got a foggy mountain breakdown
old banjo

Rock and Roll forever
That's always been my line
But now it doesn't matter
there's a foggy mountain breakdown
it sure don't sound like Motown
there's a foggy mountain breakdown
in my mind

A quiet life
A country life
Where the grass sways in the breeze
And the hues of green signify the beginning of balmy nights
A far cry from the city
Gone are the endless vibrant lights
Gone are the 2 a.m. trips across town just because they make the best doughnuts
In this place of air almost too clean to breathe
They stroll
A traffic jam is four cars at a stop sign
Battling rules of the road with polite hat tips of "you go first"
Fast feet and hot dog carts
Italian ices on every corner
Fifty-six blocks to a destination
A world of choices
A billion footprints at a time
Stoplight crowds of sneakers and pantyhose
Everyone is invisible and naked at once
The green haired freak and the business man
The limos and the gypsy cabs
The excitement only felt in a world of possibilities
The difference between pick up trucks and bike messengers
A hundred miles for supplies
Or fifty-six blocks of everything under the sun
Soot filled pores and too much traffic
Street sounds to sleep by and a world of opportunities
Crickets and junebugs
The world closes at eight
Nightlife turns into Wal-Mart and Taco Bell
The slow pace of growing grass
The warmth of a winterless Summer
Wishing for a trip across town at 2 a.m. just because they make the best doughnuts