Вступление
[Intro]
[Verse 1]
They got a tongue that twists and turns and spits, a pocket knife whatever fits
A gallon cold of liquor folded up next to the speaker
That preacher got a mouth on him, his shoes that shine, the widest brim
To tip his hat to all the choir coming through the speaker
[Chorus]
I love my flag, I love my lawn
But I’m told this soon, will all be gone
But I’ll sit here in my old wooden chair
Cause I wake up at night and I am sweating with a fever
[Verse 2]
They got a gun to shoot to kill to sit with on my lap and polish it with
The blackest coal from Boothill sold at Texaco don’t he slur
His words and speech the drawl and drip, the chew and spit of all of it
A gallon cold of liquor sold at Texaco don’t he slur
[Chorus]
I love my flag, I love my lawn
But I’m told this soon, will all be gone
But I’ll sit here in my old wooden chair
Cause I wake up at night and I am sweating with a fever
[Outro]