Blame Me

She's pony-tailed an' she's halter topped:
Her bumper-sticker says: "I hate hip-hop."
With a southern drawl, she says: "Howdy, y'all,"
And her hands ain't afraid of dirt.
He's proud of his old truck:
He spray painted over dents and rust.
The motor smokes, it's got four bald tires,
But the radio works.
Raised on the Good Book and our country songs,
Ridin' down back roads an' singin' along:

So blame me for the way they are,
Their love of the fiddle and the steel guitar.
Blame me for their cowboy hats,
Roper boots, Wrangler jeans, and rifle racks.
If you wanna point a finger at somebody,
For the way they believe,
Blame me.

They were kids when Hag and me came to town:
All eyes and ears: look at 'em now.
Center stage on the Grand Ole Opry,
On a Saturday night.
Sing of fishin' and the Lord above,
Fallin' in and out of love.
From Aunt Bea to Uncle Sam,
And that American Pie.
From big cities to the little towns
Were hard-core country inside and out.

So blame me for the way they are,
Their love of the fiddle and the steel guitar.
Blame me for their cowboy hats,
Roper boots, Wrangler jeans, and rifle racks.
If you wanna point a finger at somebody,
For the way they believe,
Blame me.

Blame me for the way they are,
Their love of the fiddle and the steel guitar.
Blame me for their cowboy hats,
Roper boots, Wrangler jeans, and rifle racks.
If you wanna point a finger at somebody,
For the way they believe,
Blame me.
Blame me.
Blame me, yeah.

Похожие новости.

Розірву Весь Цей Світ

1 Що робити маю, відповідь шукаю. Де кого спитати, де кого спіймати - де? Що робити маю, відповідь не знаю. Де брехня у правді, знав би, не питав би де. Приспів: Я знаю, розірву руками весь

Небо Цвета Дождя

Долго мы пели про Свет, а сами шли сумраком Не замечая за болтовней Как ветер играл стеклянными струнами Соединяющими наши души с землей Мы шли далеко, шли за высокими тайнами Шли, потому

Taken

Now that you can't have me You suddenly want me Now that I'm with somebody else You tell me you love me I slept on your doorstep Begging for one chance Now that I finally moved

Fighter

I seen an old fighter tired and in trouble who just couldn't take anymore Something inside him kept fightin' to finish with only his feet on the floor Lord I know that

Smokin Good

I’m a cigarello fiend smokin weed like its oxygen Roll a lot skunk, need some blunts, get two boxes in Goin to pull my stash, out rollin out this half ounce Puff pass,