Growing up in Virginia, we had enough to eat
A roof over our head and shoes on our feet.
Mama she was gone about each day and night
Didn’t know how to be a mother, didn’t want to be a wife.
Always felt something missing, that balance that I needed.
Looked in all the wrong places as I tried to feed it.
(CHORUS)
Can’t see‘em outside, they lie under the skin.
Sometimes they’re thick and sometimes they’re thin.
Nurture or nature, we all get the marks.
But the ones that hurt most are the scars from the start.
From Richmond down to Raleigh, from Saint Pete to St. Lou.
Didn’t have a whole lot but at least I’d found you.
All the while I was melting, wasting away my soul
Drinking too much whiskey and digging a deeper hole.
But you stood by my side helping me learn to love
Making sacrifices and doing more than enough.
(CHORUS)
Wasn’t ‘til near 50 that I finally figured it out.
Overcome the loneliness that drove all my doubt.
The pain of my past that’d been aching to escape.
Reflection helped release me albeit far too late.
With your love and support I got my feet on the ground.
And the scars from the start, started thinning on down.
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Robert Johnson was down at the Crossroads.
In the Mississippi Delta where he sold his soul.
Ever since any player whose worth his salt.
Is down with the devil but it ain’t their fault.
Charlie Daniels, Chris Knight, all the way to Son Volt.
Kid Rock, Springsteen, JJ Grey & Mofro.
Waylon sung ‘bout the Devil’s right hand.
And when he's not eating bats Ozzy’s still a fan.
(CHORUS)
If you’re down with the devil you can swing that axe.
That’s just how it goes. It’s a matter of fact.
Hank was whiskey-bent and damn-sure hell-bound.
So if you want to shred you’ll play the devil’s sound.
AC/DC took that highway to hell.
Paycheck and Willie, Otis Rush as well.
A friend of the devil was the Grateful Dead.
Pray him back to hell that Lucinda said.
The Rolling Stones, well, they could sympathize.
While INXS had that devil inside.
Halen ran with the devil back in ‘78.
Rumor has it Stevie Nicks even took him on a date
(CHORUS)
Had a good conversation with Ray Wylie Hubbard.
Even stole Greg Allman’s woman one time.
If you’re not down, well then you must be stubborn.
‘Cause if you shred with Satan you’ll be playing so fine.
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut and Adam Hoskins / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
The year was 1967 and I wasn’t born quite yet.
Miss Loretta Lynn was singing songs -- it was her first hit.
Called “Don't Come Home A-Drinkin’ With Lovin' on Your Mind.”
All the way to number one -- a hit for quite some time.
Was about an angry wife who’s fed up with her man.
Comes home horny night pretty well shit-canned.
Growing up I heard that song at least 1,000 times.
But never learned the lesson which sure pissed off my wife.
(CHORUS)
Miss Loretta said no drinking and coming home for sex.
But that’s just what I did and now she is my ex.
Spent my share of evenings with Jim Beam and cheap wine.
And now she is my ex but I’m just doing fine.
We met in 1993 in a Richmond bar.
She shoulda had a clue 'cause that night I went too far.
Couple shots of whiskey and maybe 10 cold Buds.
Finally she just left me drinking all them suds.
Stumbled to my truck then somehow found her place.
Banged on her front door / until she was awake.
She opened up and I crawled on in looking for a piece.
The first of nearly every night until she divorced me.
(CHORUS)
I like it all the same -- liquor, wine or beer.
After work, I hit the bar and then I want to go see her
Allegedly I gathers that after a drinking fix.
Ladies would just rather I don’t show up for sex.
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Down in central Missouri along Interstate 44.
Been driving for hours and I'm feeling pretty sore.
Spot a couple of churches, but ain’t talking about the chicken kind.
I also need to eat and to drink some whiskey or wine
Sure love me the ladies, and deeply respect their arts.
Like to roll a few frames, 'cause throwing strikes really ain’t that hard.
Think I found just the place, a giant 50-foot cross near the street
Hungry, horny and thirsty - seems to have everything I need.
(CHORUS)
The good lord’s word, pretty girls and pins.
I go to repent then rediscover my sins.
A renaissance man, I fill my days.
With churches, strip clubs and bowling lanes.
Methodist and First Baptist, a small Lutheran church as well.
Gotta speak to the lord before headin’ right straight to hell.
Walk inside those hallowed halls, read me a couple of psalms.
Then ten minutes later, it’s time for me to move on.
I head right next door and hit up the Pleasure Den.
Grab one quick lap-dance from a leathery old red head.
Who the hell knew down here that I’d find these places to play.
The lord indeed he works in such mysterious ways.
(CHORUS)
I’ll never go wrong reading the holy book.
Stay right with my maker, yeah I’m staying so good.
After cleansing the palette of my soul.
I visit the ladies who ride the poles.
Then walk down the road a quarter-mile or so.
For whiskey, hot dogs and to get on my bowl.
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
It ain’t even worth discussing
It's just a matter of fact
We all know Hank Williams
Put outlaws on the map
But he died in ’53
And that’s a long time ago
Seems it’s time to find
Another outlaw hero
(CHORUS)
Waylon Jennings and old Marty Stuart
Johnny Cash and even Ry Cooder
Yeah it’s all right to find a new muse
It’s a rite of passage
Learning Hank Sr. songs
And play ‘em to a crowd
While they all sing along
It’s all good to go
And tip your cap
But writing songs ‘bout Hank
Has just become old hat
(CHORUS)
Steve Earle and old Marty Stuart
Johnny Cash and even Ry Cooder
Yeah it’s all right to find a new muse
Time to give some others their rightful due
The list goes on – old school to new studs
Some of the greats and some of the duds
There’s an old saying – practice what you preach
Leaving heroes behind, well that’s quite a breach
Guess it ain’t bad to always wanna sing
About old Hank Williams — still the outlaw king
(CHORUS)
Guy Clark and old Marty Stuart
Johnny Cash and even Ry Cooder
Yeah it’s all right to find a new muse
But don’t forget ‘bout Hank and his “Lovesick Blues”
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Playing a show down in New Orleans.
Walk in a bar / think it’s on Magazine.
A dusty old joint / Le Bon Temps Roulet.
Pool table in front / think I hear a band playin’.
I walk on back / want to hear their sound.
Don’t much like / what I found.
Flock of Seagulls / synth-driven shit;
The worst of the 80s / Cure and the Smiths.
Really don’t care about your techno or pop;
Aint drinking no White Claw or no $20 Scotch.
Like a warm whiskey or a cold High Life;
But my three Ws is really what I like.
(CHORUS)
Just gimme Waylon, a good woman and cheap wine.
Just gimme Waylon, a good woman and cheap wine.
In Chicago one night / need a drink and some tunes.
Maybe I’ll find me / pretty girl or two.
Land at Joe’s / it’s a country spot.
But a bullshit band / just trying to rip-off.
Those painful sounds / of Florida Georgia Line.
Folks drinking Martinis / not my kind of time.
Ask the band / to play some David Allan Coe.
Tell me country rap / is all they know.
Really don’t care, about your country rap.
Aint drinkin’ Martinis or any fruity crap.
Like a warm whiskey or a cold High Life;
But my three Ws, is really what I like.
(CHORUS)
Driving down the Alabama coastline.
Spot FloraBama, and see a good sign.
A pretty girl, hopping out of her truck.
She heads inside with a couple of buds.
Follow her in, and what do I find.
She’s sitting at the bar, drinking three dollar wine.
Band’s playing ‘Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way'.
Think I found my bar, pretty sure I’ll stay.
Like a redneck women, and an outlaw sound.
Down in ‘Bama, that’s where I found.
Like a warm whiskey or a cold High Life.
But my three Ws, is really what I like.
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Was ’56, Chicago in the summertime.
No wind blowing, pavement hot, damn near frying.
Cubs in 8th and Wrigley just aint no fun.
Kinda restless, feeling like we’re half-past done.
(CHORUS)
Hop in that old black Mercury / down 50 'cause there aint no interstate.
Searching for our first time / think we might just test our fate.
Word is that there’s quite a few / might be 18.
Houses of ill repute / down there in Kankakee.
In the Windy City / heard about old Nell Clark.
A madam who the cops / well they made go dark.
She was just ahead of a business trend.
Called the crowning evil serving railroad men.
(CHORUS)
Gathered my boys – Marty, Burt and me.
Hopped in my ’50 Mercury.
Drove into the night, yeah it took two hours.
Saw the tracks and a field of wildflowers.
Hoping to fulfill a young boy’s dream.
Got just what we wanted down in Kankakee.
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Overcast day in Dwight, Illinois / You can miss it in the blink of an eye
At the Old Route 66 Family diner / Not far from the Tractor Supply
Gypsy Skillet and a cup of joe / When some old ragged boys roll in
After all night at the VFW / Smellin’ like cheap beer and gin
(CHORUS)
They were dressed like 1950 / Just like David Allan Coe sang
In his story ‘bout Hank Williams / In that Ohio prison twang
Cotton jackets down to their wastelines / Shirts tucked and pleated pants
Yeah they dressed just like my daddy / Bet they served in Vietnam
I paid my tab, walked towards the door / And one of ‘em nodded at me
Said boy how about you join us / Come here and take a seat
Clear you ain’t from around these parts / What brings you in to Dwight
I said my daddy grew up in this town / Think he served with you alright
(CHORUS)
We sure remember your daddy / He served in our platoon
Saved each and every one of our lives / it was ‘69, in June
He lost his life that fateful day / And that might make you sad
But you should be so proud of him / He was one brave dad
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Brother Dave tried his hand, at being a college boy.
It wasn’t right for him, a Marine he would deploy.
Uncle Sam sent him to Iraq, defend the oil supply.
Was a pinpoint marksman, took orders and didn’t ask why.
As you’d expect back stateside, family just wanted him home.
And in the spring of 1990, picked him up at Quantico.
(CHORUS)
Brother Dave did his duty, willing to give his life.
Brother Dave sacrificed, and he served with pride
Brother Dave came back home, and made himself a life.
But Brother Dave still must live, with the scars he hides inside.
Trying to find his way, one more shot a school.
Still not really his thing, not because he was a fool.
Went and became a cop, a sniper among the best.
Then he got a Medal of Honor, stood above the rest.
Found a real good woman, but the marriage didn’t last.
Still they raised two fine young boys, man they grew up fast.
(CHORUS)
Getting older and spending more time, sitting at the desk.
After nearly 30 years, putting his life at risk.
But he don’t need and he don’t want, awards that they gave.
He’ll gladly take a simple smile, it’s enough for Brother Dave.
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Pontoon boat on Old Hickory Lake.
Drinking beer and grilling some steaks.
Crankin’ tunes and a boat gets near.
A few hot girls so I offer’em beers.
Blonde in a two piece, she sees my pipes.
Wants a piece, yeah, she thinks I’m fine.
(CHORUS)
Amendment 2 – the right to bare arms.
If you want’em don’t go too far.
Attention ladies all you need to know.
Is that you’re welcome to the gun show.
Sitting at church one Sunday afternoon.
Choir’s humming, just a bit outta tune.
Sippin’ whiskey and swiping my cell.
Preacher man says we’re all going to hell.
Red head nearby, Lord help me please!
Hope she sees my cut off sleeves.
(CHORUS)
Be sure to keep the pythons bare.
It don’t really matter where.
No bad time to turn‘em loose.
First dates, weddings, even job interviews.
Sleeves are just so out of style.
And biceps sure do bring a smile.
To the face of all who’re near.
And in your enemies, they strike fear
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Just a young girl / with big dreams.
Front a rock’n’roll band / that's what she told me.
She met a boy / baby came along
They were three / those dreams were done.
Then daddy left / you know how it can be.
When you’re still young / but far from free.
Asked one day / if I could help her.
She looked at me / and said these words.
(CHORUS)
Ain’t no saviors in the world / and no one’s needs to come.
Not asking for a hand / no room to come undone.
Gotta stand up and be strong / I’ve got two mouths to feed.
Ain’t no saviors in this world / gonna work for what we need.
On a dark night / she’s sitting up.
Just couldn’t sleep / things they were tough.
Made eleven bucks / on the hourly.
She needed more / to fill her boy’s dreams.
Told herself / she’d go back to school.
Build a better life / was no fool.
Worked real hard / had no fear.
She’d get hers / took six years.
(CHORUS)
Looked inside her soul
Saw no one to be saved.
Resolved to make a change.
And make her own way.
Just a young girl / with big dreams.
Front a rock’n’roll band / that's what she told me.
*Lyrics and composition: Aaron Perlut, Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Clearwater beach, Frenchie’s down the way.
Drinking beers one hot July day.
With my boys, but really need me some.
Gonna head down south so I can get some love.
I hop on in my truck, gonna drive real slow.
Gulf Boulevard, way down that road.
Indian Rocks and Redington Beach.
Treasure Island, the bar at Caddy’s.
(CHORUS)
I need me a St. Pete girl; With her dried-out bronze.
Faded pirate tattoo; She used to strip at Mons.
Wearing skin tight Daisy Dukes; With her bleached blonde hair.
I need me a St. Pete girl; The kind that just don’t care.
I walk on in, belly up to the bar.
Next to a gal smoking a cheap cigar.
Grab a Busch, walk on out to the beach.
Spot my St. Pete gal, sure she’s within reach.
Got a tramp stamp a couple of kids.
Drinkin’ Old Milwaukee, smokin’ Marlboro reds.
Throw her a look, she smiles back at me.
I don't really mind that she's missing some teeth.
(CHORUS)
I betcha back in her day she looked like a million bucks.
But after all that tanning and smoking all them butts.
Tire’s lost some tread but that’s ok by me.
My St. Pete girl still gets me and never stops the party.
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Goin’ down the highway and see some big old signs
Just a bunch of noise when one catches my eye
It’s a sacred place and one you cannot miss
It must be blessed – where god never forgets
(CHORUS)
It’s a prayer zone / So don’t bitch and moan
No cussing in this place / We’re gonna stop and pray
Coming to a prayer zone / Where porn ain’t condoned
You won’t need no fear / But you can’t dance ‘round here
Tables by the road selling Jesus merch
That’s just what you need along this highway church
They’ve got some savior bongs at a hell of a deal
We’re on cruise control – the lord’s got the wheel
(CHORUS)
Some of us pray in a private place
Or just shout in church for saving grace
A guy I know likes to handle snakes
My wife just shoots ‘em down at the lake
Some talk in tongues I can’t understand
While I keep going in my Chevy Van
It’s where I’m gonna worship on my own
Along this Highway 63 prayer zone
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics: Aaron Perlut, Joey Mack / Composition: Denzel Whitewell / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
I used to see her in the bar; Looking at her from afar.
Wondering if she had man; Her hair was blonde and her skin was tan.
Thought she was pretty as could be; Most beautiful thing I ever did see.
Introduced by my good friend; Told her we’d be together, ‘til the end.
(CHORUS)
Well, please forgive me, but I must say.
I’m gonna love you for all my days.
It was love, baby at first sight.
I cross my heart and I hope you’re mine.
You’re the best thing ever happened to me.
Hope we raise a happy family.
It was love, baby at first sight.
I cross my heart and I hope you’re mine.
We married back in ’99; Down in Richmond where we lived for a time.
We were young, not even 30 yet; Just building lives and looking ahead.
Searchin’ for jobs we’ve moved around; Meeting new folks all across the south.
Had 3 kids, worked to raise’em right; Surely hoping they would turn out fine.
(CHORUS)
We’re older now and the kids ‘bout gone.
Just you and me, our love still strong.
You still have the keys to my heart.
In your hands, the world still ours.
It's not all roses but a life well-lived.
But without question, I would give.
Anything to do it over again.
Together with you, my best friend.
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
You grew up sucking on a silver spoon;
Daddy swore he’d take you to the moon.
Had a nanny and a personal chef;
Private tutors, all the rest.
Took Cotillion, learn to waltz and eat;
So you know how to slice your meat.
Vineyard Vines every day to school;
Afternoons in the backyard pool.
(CHORUS)
A Beemer when you turned 16;
Only khakis - no blue jeans.
A spoiled prick and healthy trust fund;
A member of the Lucky Sperm Club,
Go to Harvard with a 2.9;
'cause daddy gave’m million and five.
Didn’t work or study any way;
Snorting coke, playing squash all day.
Weekend trips on the private jet;
Never heard of things like having debt.
Graduation walked across that stage;
Into the C-suite where you’re getting paid.
(CHORUS)
As a kid you smacked your nanny on the ass;
When she drove you to private school class;
Got whatever you wanted all your life;
Even landed yourself that hot ass wife;
You’re just about impossible to love;
A member of the Lucky Sperm Club.
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
We were tight as could be.
Close buds just you and me.
Then one night at the bar drinking Jack.
I saw you kissing on my wife in the back.
She and I – said I do.
In New Orleans back in ’92.
Now you’re leaving with her on your arm.
Gonna knock boots in your broken-ass car.
(CHORUS)
My life’s a bitch / It’s plain to see.
My girl, she just ditched my ass / It aint no mystery.
My life’s a bitch / It’s plain to see.
Gonna give it my best shot / Drown myself in cheap whiskey.
At my place one Saturday night.
Pour a beer - Miller High Life.
Moving truck pulls up next door.
You and my ex, drop my beer on the floor.
Seems you got, a couple steals.
First my wife now the trailer – not ideal.
I guess you’re not going to go away.
Be seeing you every goddamned day.
(CHORUS)
My life’s a bitch / It’s plain to see.
My ex just moved next door / Now I'm in misery.
My life’s a bitch / It’s plain to see.
Gonna give it my best shot / Drown myself in cheap whiskey.
It’s been 10 years and 3 kids ago.
While I’m sitting here all alone.
You’re still happily banging my ex.
And I hear it every time you have sex.
Now your kids are running all around.
Breaking shit and throwing bikes on the ground.
There’s just gotta be a way.
For me to get out – get out of this place.
(CHORUS)
My life’s a bitch / It’s plain to see.
Gotta find some way out / Escape this misery.
My life’s a bitch / It’s plain to see.
Gonna give it my best shot / Drown myself in cheap whiskey.
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Evening out with a couple of friends.
Me and my girl and Tommy and Jen.
First hit the bar and order a round of shots.
By the time we hit dinner I’ve had quite a lot.
Whiskey and beer and with dinner some wine.
See my girl’s face and tell her I’m fine.
When the meal comes I’m yelling ‘cross the room.
Tommy and Jen – they can’t leave too soon.
(CHORUS)
It happens like this, I get a bit out of hand.
Over and over, doing best I can.
To drink my fill to where I can’t see.
I’m the king of the next day apology.
Host a party with friends and their kids.
Grill fired up and tapped a full keg.
Sunday afternoon and should be pretty chill.
But I’m just getting started, gonna get my fill.
Want to finish that keg before the night’s gone.
I gotta drink up – the night might be long.
Next thing you know I’m drinking from a trough.
Doing keg stands and got my shirt off.
(CHORUS)
Sometimes it’s an email, sometimes it’s a text.
If you’re drinking with me you know what comes next.
Apologetic note, say it won’t happen again.
Hope you’ll forgive me and stay my good friend.
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Tuesday afternoon / in the 9th grade.
Jenny’s on his mind / thinking ‘bout getting laid.
Hormones pumping / teacher calls his name.
Says walk up here Junior / I ain’t playing no games.
So he stands up tall / just trying to be a man.
Untucks his shirt / over the top of his pants.
But make no mistake / it was all right there.
Busting on out / everybody stared.
(CHORUS)
When Mother Nature gives him a stiff surprise.
Junior remembers that look in his daddy’s eyes.
Who said son be sure you are not deterred.
And just remember these important words.
Whoa, oh, oh, oh - Don’t hide it Junior.
Ten years later / working at Mickey D’s.
Junior’s on the corner dressed as Mayor McCheese.
He sees his best friend’s mom / and can’t recall her name.
But she’s quite the MILF / all the same.
She walks by Junior / and he smells her perfume.
Just then he feels his hormones swoon.
Tap on his shoulder and the bossman sees.
Those pants a bit tight / Mr. Mayor McCheese?
(CHORUS)
It Happens in school, library and church.
Even when you’re with your boss at work.
Sitting across the table from a hot date.
Blood vessels pumpin’ / nearing a rigid state.
Excitement builds / getting firm and engorged.
Next thing you know you go from flaccid to large.
Might blow your top so just let it be.
And be proud of your package / just let it fly free.
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics: Aaron Perlut / Composition: Denzel Whitewell / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Back in 2003 / We had a rough few months
She was carrying two on bed rest / It’s couldn’t been more tough
They came in February / Early by 12 weeks
Both not quite 3 pounds / We lost a lot of sleep
It was a struggle / But our boy he came home
Our little girl she wasn’t so lucky / She went to heaven on her own
(CHORUS)
I wonder what she’d be like / And not a day goes by
That some little girl walks right by me / And she crosses my mind
I never really knew her / Yet miss her all the same
Dream she’d be just like her mom / Alice was her name
Raising Alice’s brothers / Her memory’s always here
What would it have been like / Having all three in there
Maybe she’d be a Tom Boy / Or a gentle little girl
Love to paint just like her mother / Or take her bicycle for a whirl
(CHORUS)
We’ll never have the answers / Who might she have been
An astronaut or teacher / Maybe a president
But what I surely know / Is on June 1, 2003
I permanently lost / Lost a piece of me
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + Composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
On the high school team, a third-string QB
Ridin’ the bench, watch games from a knee
One day I asked coach to put me in
Told him I’m sure that I’ll help us win
(CHORUS)
Suck it up buttercup – that was what he said
You aint getting on that field unless they pronounce me dead.
I guess you missed the news – so here’s your headline
Suck it up buttercup – don’t let me hear you whine
Five years later, the bus that I ride
Spot a beauty, want to make her all mine
Gotta get some nerve and ask her on a date
Move near her seat so I can tempt my fate
(CHORUS)
Suck it up buttercup – that was what she said
You aint taking me out unless they pronounce me dead.
I guess you missed the news – so here’s your headline
Suck it up buttercup – don’t let me hear you whine
Took it all to heart and heeded advice
Accepted risks and rolled the dice
Climbed out of my shell, said what the hell
Some great men in history didn’t have it this well
Then I took another bus ride
And that mean old beauty chanced by my side
Recognized me quick and she took a seat
Said “will you please have dinner with me?”
(CHORUS)
Suck it up buttercup – that was what I said
I aint taking you to dinner unless they pronounce me dead.
I guess you missed the news – so here’s your headline.
Suck it up buttercup – don’t let me hear you whine
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut, Joey Mack, Ed Halsey / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Rolled into town, Johnny seemed real nice
We struck up a friendship, sure was really kind
To me and my lady, and our kids too
We’d go out drinking, became part-of-my crew
As often happens, he’d tell me about his life
I had my questions, but never did ask why
An entrepreneur who said he knew big tech
Like old Al Gore, invented internet
(CHORUS)
Just wanted a friend to share an ice-cold beer
Shoot the shit but don’t need to hear
Things you say happened but maybe they didn’t
Wish you’d tell like it is, but you tell it like it isn’t
Beer by the fire, just shootin’ the shit
He’s talking about work with some at-risk kids
He turns and looks right at my buddy Pete
Who’s the nicest guy you’d ever want to meet
But Johnny tells Pete that he aint so bright
Not just busting balls, it just aint real nice
Then talks ‘bout his work for Uncle Sam
How he’s saving lives – such a virtuous man
(CHORUS)
Down deep down inside, Johnny had some good
Saw it myself, saw it when he would
Forget his anger, forget about his fears
See he’s good enough for folks to want him near
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Down in Theodosia stopped in on a friend
Just shooting the breeze When I spotted a gem
A blue ball cap with a rope across the brim
White letters on the front and a name that was written
It read Gene Rogers so I asked who was that
Said he was an old friend and that he had passed
She knew I wanted the hat, said it sits on my shelf
But I needed his story before I took it for myself
(CHORUS)
Well that was Gene the Auctioneer
A kind-old soul who lived around here
He’s gone now but would like to know
Someone wears his hat so please take it home
Born in Protem, Missouri back in 1949
A good Christian man who sang gospel oh so fine
How he loved to hunt and on his farm he loved to work
How he cherished his kids, yeah that was for sure
(CHORUS)
Well that was Gene the Auctioneer
A kind-old soul who lived around here
He’s gone now but would like to know
Someone wears his hat so please take it home
Still needed more so I stopped in Protem, there’s a general store from way back when
It’s a shop, a deli, a post office too and when a fire burns they know what to do
Said Gene was kind, liked his cowboy hat, always had a smile and liked to chat
He lost his boy Kevin and was buried near him and really loved all his grandchildren
(CHORUS)
Well that was Gene the Auctioneer
A kind-old soul who lived around here
He’s gone now and that was that
Remember there’s a man behind every hat
*Lyrics and Composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
There are stories that you hear.
That prison is a place of hate and fear.
But I’m here to tell you it’s not always true.
You've got choices in there too.
I crawled in to that store.
Cooked on meth, and looking for more.
Police man, he came on in.
As I’m sippin’ a fifth of gin.
Liquored up, yeah he saw me.
Take a leak, in aisle 3.
Cuffed my wrists, and brought me to you,
Now we share a cell for two.
(CHORUS)
You came to me one starry night.
And wanted to hold me just a bit too tight.
I said pardon me but you aint my taste.
Not going on your prison date.
I remember that first time.
Far from gentle, wasn’t feeling fine.
In the laundry as I recall,
No, I think it was in that bathroom stall.
Your hands of stone well they touched me.
While I’m trying to take a leak.
I said, fairly certain I’m not for you.
But plenty more for you to choose.
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Flipping through my Tinder app / Maybe I’ll find my mate
Just need a little something / Not any kind of date
Think I found my girl / Tramp stamp and hair in a bun
Might just swipe right now / If she smokes she’s my one
(CHORUS)
If she smokes she stokes / That fire deep down inside
Cigarette dangling from her lips / I gotta make her mine
If she smokes she stokes / Blowing them rings real wide
It’s a scientific fact / I’m gonna make her mine
Sitting in the bar / Miller High Life tonight
See her puffin’ on a Camel / Might just make her my wife
Walk right up to her / She’s standing a cloud of smoke
I say pardon me pretty lady / What you’re doing to me ain’t no joke
(CHORUS)
At the roller rink / She’s sitting by locker number 9
Virginia Slim 100 in her mouth / Damn she looks so fine
Light it up and put it in your mouth / Pull a tasty toke
That sends a clear message / That my fire’s getting’ stoked
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics by Aaron Perlut and Joey Mack; Composition by Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Trying to write the kinda song
It’s not too short and not too long
For the bars, when we don’t want to think
Makes you want to get on your drink
We know the words and sing’em loud
Take our arms and put’em around
Our drinking buddies to the left and right
As we raise up our glasses all through the night
(CHORUS)
Just a honky tonk drinkin' song
It’s not too short and it ain’t too long
We sing it with our drinkin’ shoes on
We sing it loud and we sing it strong
It’s a song that everybody knows
In the bar where everybody goes
We sing it with our drinkin’ shoes on
It’s our honky tonk drinkin' song
We’ve been drinking cold beer all day
And now it’s starting to get real late
Let’s find Jim — yeah Mr. Beam
And take our shots if you know what I mean
Smelling like a horny pack of skunks
That’s how we roll when we get drunk
Gonna hurt when we get up
In the morning but that’s part of the fun
(CHORUS)
The end is here, yeah it’s closing time
The lights go on and we’re feeling fine
We ain’t finished, no we’re far from done
‘Cause I got plenty more ice cold Buds
In the cooler in the back of my car
Right outside – don’t have to go to far
A few more rounds in the parking lot
A capella now hold up your shot
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics and Composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
(CHORUS)
The Devil drives a Prius / Swear on momma’s grave
Drives like an old lady / Saw him just the other day
The Devil drives a Prius / Drives just way too slow
Stopping up the traffic / Going ‘bout 10 below
It was a sunny afternoon / Driving Highway 64
Speed limit was 70 / Got my pedal to the floor
Up ahead in the left lane / Going about 55
A bright red Prius / About to ruin my ride
(CHORUS)
I pulled up on his bumper / But couldn’t see inside
I wanted to get around him / I just kept on trying
No matter how close I got / He wouldn’t budge an inch
Tried to pass but a convoy / Had me in a pinch
(CHORUS)
I was laying on my horn / Calling him a dumb bitch
When I finally pulled beside him / Damn I was pissed
Raised my finger out the window / To show that bastard up
But he just kept on driving / Ignoring my angry buzz
Finally he looked over / But must’ve changed his shape
From a fiery-reddish monster / To a 90-pound old lady
As I passed I could hear / A dark voice, it hissed
He said I’ll see you soon my son / Your soul’s on my list
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics: Aaron Perlut + Joey Mack / Composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Head to the lake for a couple of days
See trailers and dogs with just three legs
Lots of folks just walkin’ on by
Drinking 40s and all hazy-eyed
Handicap scooters riding around
They’re shooting guns, screaming and shoutin’
Stumbling around in sleeveless shirts
Wonder if folks here go to work
(CHORUS)
At the Ozark Lake we howl at the moon
Burn our trash in the heat of June
Front lawns covered in beat up cars
Just dirt roads, meth and graveyards
Yards look like a lost and found
Hazmat suits lying on the ground
A couple of kids, outdoors in a crib
Smoking cigarettes, drinking Mr. Pibb
Spot the lake, want to take a swim
Might get E. coli if I jump in
Not sure we make it out alive
Maybe we should’ve kept on drivin’
(CHORUS)
Moonlit night on the edge of the lake
Coyotes howl while we get baked
Sitting on a pile of tires
Mattress cracklin’ in the fire
Hear a siren and a few gunshots
Maybe time to leave or maybe not
Either way, it’s sure been fine
At Lake of the Ozarks one more time
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics + composition: Aaron Perlut + Joey Mack / Copyright Atomic Junkshot
Every day seems the news gets worse / The seas they rise and fires they burn
Oil spills from an underwater pipe / Covering birds and all the wildlife
Folks can’t afford to live here no more / They’re moving to Dallas and Denver for sure
There ain’t no rain, no it rarely pours / Seems the Golden State ain’t so golden no more
(CHORUS)
Goodbye California
Adios my friend
Thanks for the memories
They’ll be with me to the very end
Goodbye California
San Francisco, my daddy and me / My first time, I was just 16
Explored the city, went to the beach / Saw the forests and the red wood trees
We got lucky, just missed a quake / The next one might just split the state
At least our politicians look real good / Just wish they cared, wish they understood
(CHORUS)
In the city of angels, hitting the strip / Santa Monica Pier – a perfect sunset
Pacific Highway, take a chill ride / Out to Joshua Tree, where we get high
So much to love, when will we learn / Or will we just let it all burn
Maybe we’ll wake up, quit letting it be / So California won’t fall into the sea
(CHORUS)
*Lyrics and Composition: Aaron Perlut / Copyright Atomic Junkshot